The Other Hawthorne
by stacylk
Summary: Conceived in infidelity, defined by the mistakes of others, one boy searches for identity in the Seam but instead is taught purpose from the girl who is favored by his half brother.AU
1. Chapter 1

_Rated Teen for Mild Language_

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Thank you to Wildharp for Beta-ing, and as always a special thanks to SheepAmongstWolves12 for her hilarious and encouraging commentary._

_Reviews are loved and happily received!_

**The Other Hawthorne**

Chapter One

The air was cool as it traveled through the loose strands of hair that had escaped her braid, the ends tickling the skin at her neck and cheeks.

Her steps were deliberate and precise as she trekked through the natural mazes of the trees, as they held their place like mythic creatures that commanded respect.

She never grew tired of the beauty that the forest held, like a mother who held her offspring to her bosom providing the nourishment it would need to thrive.

The wind picked up, sending crisp leaves to weave their way through the breeze, and around her body.

The tickling sensation at the back of her hand slowed her stride, grabbing her attention.

She peered down at her hand, her eyes widening from her confusion regarding the hand before her.

The size of it had shrunk to that of a child's, and even more so the usual calluses and scars, she had appropriated from years of handling the wire for snares, that shown on her skin were recognizably absent.

She could feel her pulse race as confusion set in, her cheeks already flushed by her elevated heart rate.

The soft trickle of rain fall reached her ears as droplets of water fell onto her face, momentarily cooling the warmth collecting there.

A loud clap of thunder sounded around her, rattling through the branches, and dirt of the woods.

She continued to stare dumbfounded at her hand as sheets of rain circled her body.

The strands of hair that had been hanging around her face were now plastered to her skin as a result of the downpour.

She could feel the material of her long sleeve button up already form to her shoulders and arms, the rain water seeping into the thread count.

Another round of thunder startled her, the sound echoing through the desolate surroundings absorbing any other noise.

Her knees gave under the terror, sending her body to the saturated ground; her palms sank into the mud before she was able to recover her bearings.

She could feel the burn from her newly skinned knees riding up her legs towards her stomach when she noticed the pool of water that had collected in a ditch above where she hunched over the waterlogged dirt.

With determination she crawled through the layers of mud toward the gathering of rain, the heels of her hands lacerated by the stray sticks and sharp rocks on the forest floor.

The rain water fell on the crown of her head to travel over her forehead and into her eyes as she peered down into her reflection, ripples occurred around the lines as new drops collected in the pool.

She took in a deep breath as she struggled with the reality of seeing the face staring back at her.

The eyes were wider set and still held a sense of innocence, something she had lost long ago.

She reached up, touching her skin with muddy fingers, the skin beneath smooth and unscathed, the scars she had gained from learning to master her bow were also gone.

She could feel her body begin to shake, but not from the rain water that seeped through her clothes to chill her skin, it was the realization that she was looking into the face of a child.

The same child she had been before her father's death, the wide eyed dreamer who would sing because she discovered how butterflies kept in flight, not the young woman who silenced her voice from fear of the grief choking her.

A sharp sound a few yards away alerted her to another presence, her head shot up towards the direction of the sound, fearful of a starving animal.

She kept hunched over, settled on her hands and knees, when the familiar back covered in the leather jacket she knew well came into view.

She held her breath as he turned around facing her, his bow arm extended, before he laid the side of the riser against his thigh.

A warm smile formed at his lips as his free hand pushed the dark hair back away from his eyes.

"There you are my flower," he laughed lightly, motioning her over as the rain rushed down the olive skin of his face,"Come Katniss, there's so much more we need to do."

She watched him turn around, the sheets of rain becoming thick causing her view of him to become obscured.

Katniss could hear his footsteps, the crunching of brittle leaves underneath his boots sounding further away with every breath she took.

Frantically, she pushed herself off of the drenched earth with her petite frame, the loss of strength in the younger body evident.

Her feet sank into the mud as she righted her footing, her arms stretched out to her sides trying to find balance.

The rainfall had become clear sheets separating her from her father, her hands tangling in them like curtains that had blown in front of a window.

Katniss pushed her childhood frame forward, her fingers clawing the clear sheets of rain out of her way.

She could still hear her father call out her name beckoning her forward as she ran through the obstacles of fallen branches and downpour.

"Come Katniss, come."

She nearly missed the moment when the color drained out of the world around her, the greens and earthy browns of the forest replaced by muted lifeless shades that depicted emptiness.

Her legs becoming heavy from the weight of the dried mud shaping to the curve and muscles there.

She began to tremble as tears streamed down her cheeks mixing with the dirt and rain already covering her face.

Her voice was weak, the tones escaping her mouth were higher, that of a young girl,"Daddy! Please daddy, don't leave me!"

Finally the sheets of rain began to clear, as darkness surrounded her, covering her in a shroud of the unknown.

Katniss collapsed against the first solid base, other than the ground, that she had encountered. Her small hands clawed at the rock exterior, as the thick air entered her strained lungs.

She began to weep uncontrollably,"Daddy! Daddy, where are you?"

His voice was clear as it rung out through the dark earth,"Come, my flower."

Katniss struggled to stand up straight, her legs shaking.

She laid her palms flat against the wall, as her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

The man shaped walls of the mine forming around her, as they threatened to swallow her whole.

Katniss forced herself to walk forward as she searched for her father, his voice floating through the tunnels, calling her to him.

However, every time she felt as though she was gaining ground, his voice seemed to be further in the distance.

Her feet and legs ached from the impact of the hard stones colliding with her body as her feet dropped down onto the earth, as she ran.

She stopped when she heard him call her name, the sound coming from around the corner.

Katniss breathed a sigh of relief, but her content was short lived when she came face to face with another wall.

She beat her small fists against the dark soot walls, until the skin around her knuckles began to bleed, the flesh there torn.

"DADDY,NO!"

The ground began to rumble beneath her feet, her small body tossed to the ground, the air fleeing her lungs as the impact rattled her.

With her head hanging down towards the ground, Katniss looked up in enough time to see the rolling wave of flames rush down the tunnel towards her.

She could once again hear her father calling her forward when the fire over took her, the heat burning her from the inside out.

Katniss awoke, her grey eyes wide, as a scream threatened to leave her lips, the taste of death metallic on her tongue, but only silence surrounded her.

A sheen of sweat covered her forehead, mixing with the already existing perspiration that had formed due to the warm weather.

Katniss lay on her back staring up at the wooden slats that made the ceiling of her room, as her paralyzed limbs slowly regained feeling.

The tingling sensation traveled up from her legs to settle at her chest, she could feel the pulse rate at her neck throb, the vein there swelled as the adrenaline ran through her.

It was difficult for her to recover quickly after she experienced her nightmares, the effects done to her psyche by experiencing how her father died were much more long lasting than any physical pain could manage.

She inhaled through her nose before exhaling out her mouth, her lips chapped, and her tongue as rough and dry as the sandpaper Gale used when he would refinish the meager and worn furniture her mother used.

She closed her mouth, trying in vain to wet her tongue; however she couldn't manage to produce the saliva needed to do so.

She sighed loudly, clearly annoyed with herself for allowing her emotions to effect her so drastically, she wasn't a whimpering quim who fell apart at the first sign of distress.

Katniss' side was jarred when the impact of a knee pressed into her ribs with enough force to earn a quiet groan from her.

Blindly she reached down taking hold of the petite kneecap pushing it to the side gently, with the back of her head still lying on the pillow, Katniss turned to her left where golden strands of hair came into view.

She laughed lightly to herself before turning on her side to brush the mess of hair from the owner's face.

Soft features, and fair skin came into view as Katniss cleared the hair from her sister's face, a small smile on the young girl's lips, the sides upturned enough to help her appear to be angelic but mischievous enough to produce a sense of cleverness.

Katniss ran her fingers down the length of the strands; her jagged nails tangling in the knots created by sleep before unraveling them, Katniss laid the hair above the girl's head to fan around her face.

There weren't many things in her life that she handled with care; she had a deliberate and at times blunt way of going about things, causing her to forget she had a grace when it came to dealing with her sister.

Katniss pushed a strand of blond hair that had stuck to the moisture of the girl's lips,"I love you, Primrose."

Prim stirred in her sleep, her legs tangling in the thin sheet, as she turned on her side before settling on her stomach.

Katniss waited for her sister's breathing to become steady again before she sat up, using the heels of her bare feet to push away the remainder of sheet that draped over her calves.

She assumed during her sleep she must have pushed the bedding off of her, the heat troubling her even with her being in an unconscious state.

The back of her head colliding with the clay wall lightly as her body righted its posture, a quiet _oomph_ fell from her lips as she kicked the sheet further down towards the end of the bed.

She could feel beads of sweat tickling her skin as they traveled down her throat to collect underneath her nightgown at her breasts.

She was thankful that she had remembered to braid her hair back before retiring to bed the night before, still strands had come loose from the woven design, they now stuck to the sweaty skin at her neck, and Katniss pushed them away with an aggravated sigh.

The temperature was abnormally warm for this time of year, affecting the residents of the already morose district, tempers were exposed like a sensitive nerve, the usual indifference of the peacekeepers was replaced by over vigilance due to the rise in altercations, and Katniss hoped the weather would soon cool.

If not to boost morale, then to improve her hunting experience, because like humans, the game had been reluctant to swelter underneath the scorching sun, causing them to stay in their burrows and the shadows to ward off the heat.

She had grown tired of the meager catch she had been returning home with, and she knew something had to break, Katniss prayed it was the rising temperature instead of their need to eat, because she was starting to see the effects on Prim's body.

Katniss had to hold back a sob from the memory, afraid she would wake her sister, the image of the youngest Everdeen's floating rib jutting out had made Katniss want to vomit, the dread and grief flooding through her body was almost too much for her to handle.

Katniss reached up forcing her hands into her hair to fight off the tears threatening to choke her, the strands pulled back to form the braid were now pulled halfway out, the top of her head now a messy, tangled collection of hair.

Katniss swung her legs over the edge of the shared twin bed, the springs holding the mattress in place squeaked and rattled, exposing their age and use.

The sheet hung on one of her big toes, causing it to travel over to the floor, Katniss bent down pulling it free to throw it back onto to the bed where Prim rolled her body onto the other half.

A cool breeze blew through the window, lifting the tattered curtains to ride the wave, the skin at her bare arms rose at the light touch.

She breathed in deep, inhaling the much needed change in temperature, the heavy scent of burning coals hovered below her nostrils, and Katniss fought the urge to sneeze from the sensation.

It was barely dawn and the residents of the Seam were already preparing for the day; Katniss straightened her posture to peer out the opened window.

Normally, she was more than vigilant to keep any unwanted visitors out of the house, animal and human alike, but the warm weather permitted for her to lax on her paranoia.

Katniss could see smoke stacks covering the length of space, stretching from the border of the Seam to where she knew the trail to the mine began.

She inhaled once more, the musky, dry scent of a new day floated through the air, wrapping around her body in a familiar scent.

She lowered her feet to the wooden floor boards, laying them flat, her balance steady before she stood.

Katniss cringed when she felt the dampness of sweat between her shoulders blades, the perspiration holding the material of her nightgown there.

She reached over her shoulder, pushing her braid to the side before pulling the material free, she had joked the previous night with Prim about sleeping in the nude, for a moment Katniss was granted a reprieve from her daily worries when her sister's laughter filled the room with a sense of lightness.

Katniss smiled to herself, letting the memory fill her up, before she turned towards the corner of the room where the ladder sat.

Her bare feet padded across the room with the skill of a hunter, with only her toes, and the area directly below, touching the wooden boards.

Katniss reached out for the railing, clutching the weathered wood, before turning her body to set her feet on the rungs of the ladder.

She could feel it trying to give underneath her weight, before the wood settled, Katniss was worried that it wouldn't be able to withstand their weight anymore, and even Prim who weighed almost next to nothing had elicited a deep moan from it.

Katniss slowly climbed down, the pads of her feet landing on every level, she held on tight not wanting to fall and injure herself.

She reminded herself that she would need to ask Gale if he wouldn't mind building them another, preferably one that wouldn't fall apart or leave splinters in the palms of their hands.

Katniss jumped down onto the first floor, landing on the pads of her toes, with only two steps left, her fingers still curled around the sides.

She knew her resistance to replace the ancient piece had to do with the fact that her father had built it.

Katniss held onto the memory of her father with an iron grip, but even then it was becoming more and more difficult to remember the sound of his voice or the musk that would fill the house when he would return from work.

Her nightmares were the only time she had with him anymore, the memory of him haunting her was familiar, and Katniss knew only struggle and grief, she was comfortable with these feelings, she knew how to manage through them.

The only time she felt as though she was living, not just surviving, was when she was out beyond the fence, where she could truly breathe, and be more than the girl from the Seam who had lost her father in a mining accident.

She could rise above the label she had been given, in the woods she could hunt and provide for her family, she was a huntress, a fierce animal of pride, and not the girl who shrank into the background when around people other than her family and close friends, in the forest she could spread her wings and fly.

Because beyond the fence, beyond the strife of the district, Katniss could walk the trails he had walked, forage from the trees he had touched, in the forest she was with her father.

He had been the only one to truly understand her, even Gale who she trusted with her life, had trouble completely empathizing with her. Not that Gale was particularly gifted at such a thing, but he was one of the few people she felt calm around.

Although, perhaps because of how passionate Gale could be about his views or just in general, it was necessary for one of them to be the cooler head.

Katniss let go of the ladder, patting it lightly before walking through the first floor.

It consisted of a single room that had been halved up to be used as a dining area and family room, an iron stove sat in the middle with a pipe traveling up to the ceiling, a low groan filled the room as the iron of the stove settled.

Her mother had left it on at a low flame, because even though the need for the fire to be lit wasn't present, it had become difficult to get the fire restarted in the old stove recently.

Katniss walked pass the stove, eager to escape the low heat it emanated, the warmth reaching the left side of her calf, the skin there flushed for a few seconds.

Her hand reached out to the thread bear sofa that sat across from the fireplace that hadn't been in order since she had been an infant.

Lightly her fingers traveled along the top of the worn furniture as she walked the length of space to the small room that they used as a place to bathe and relieve themselves.

She stopped short when she reached the mantle above the abandoned fireplace, her eyes going to the single picture frame that sat at her eye level.

He looked out of place in the pauper's suit, the jacket frayed at the lapel, bits of thread displayed, and his hair neatly combed back.

Katniss disliked the picture of her father, it seemed so unrealistic, the man she had known had been earthy and proud, and before her all she could see was a man who in that moment had been uncomfortable in his own skin, tight lipped smile and all.

With an eye roll of disgust, her attention flitted to the couch where he mother slept, her golden hair, the locks of a merchant, were pushed above her head to hang over the arm of the couch.

The usually pinned up strands hung loosely around her, her legs tucked into her stomach, Katniss assumed she must have arrived home late again.

It was rare for her to sleep in the bed that was pushed up against the wall at the far side of the room underneath the landing that served as Katniss and Prim's makeshift living space.

Her mother served as the district's midwife and general healer, a thankless job at times, but Katniss was thankful that it gave her mother a purpose, even if she was bitter that her mother would rather serve strangers than make her own daughters her priority.

However, Katniss would rather have her mother neglect them over something such as a trade, that seemed to make a difference, than have her obsessed and lost in her grief over the absence of their father.

Katniss shook her head, trying to clear it of any excess worry, it was a daily fight not to be overtaken from all of the strife around her, and she didn't need to take on her mother's mistakes as well.

She turned back to the makeshift door to the washroom, deliberately washing over the framed shot beside her.

She didn't need memories of her father haunting her; she would wait until she made it into the forest to think of him, because there the memories weren't painful reminders of her loss.

Katniss placed her hand on the withered wood, a whine from the ancient hinges echoed through the first floor.

The humidity of the windowless room washed over her, causing her nose to scrunch up in disgust, however she was thankful she and her mother were so active about keeping the small room clean.

She could only imagine the smell, if waste was left to fester in the tiny space. Katniss sighed as she walked through the door fully, the wood shutting behind her.

The heat formed around her as she padded over to the cast iron tub, she was prepared to groan in annoyance, assuming she would have to venture outside to the well.

Her brow knitted together when she noticed the tub had been filled with water, Katniss bent down trailing her fingers just above the water, her nails skimming the top.

The temperature was relatively warm, but the water still held coolness to it, she inhaled deeply, Katniss was pleasantly surprised that the stench of mildew didn't seem to be present.

She sat down on the edge, the lip of the tub barely holding her upright; a quiet sigh escaped her lips as her eyes wandered over to the closed door, her mother sleeping beyond it.

She must have filled it before retiring from her late evening, Katniss felt irritated with the sudden guilt that came over her.

She was aware of the cold exterior she presented when dealing with her mother, and at times she felt justified, even more superior.

However, when she would commit small gestures that could be interpreted as nurturing Katniss felt held down by the overpowering sense of guilt that filled her.

Katniss tore her eyes from the door, the sweat at her back collecting rapidly as she sat in the humid room.

Even with the sun barely up, the heat was already beginning to rise, which wasn't a good omen for hunting or functioning in general.

She stood up careful not to tip into the water fully clothed, her right hand gripping the edge as she found steady footing.

Reaching down around her knees, her fingers curled around the hem of her gown before bringing the material up to her waist, and eventually passing her chest then over her head.

Her long braid caught in the material, earning an aggravated groan from her lips, before she pulled it free, the collection of hair hitting the bare skin of back with a low thud.

Katniss discards the soiled clothing to the floor at her feet, the toes on her right foot catching in the material to kick it farther away.

She now stands in the small cramped room naked, her body bare and revealing, even though she's alone, Katniss can't help but feel vulnerable.

She shakes her insecurities off as she turns around to face the basin full of water, her left leg bending at the knee, before she lowers it into the water; a shiver goes up her body to rest at her hip as her toes vanish beneath the surface.

The change of temperature is refreshing as the cool water surrounds her naked form as she lowers her body into the tub fully.

The water sloshes over the lip of the tub as she settles in, her hands gripping the sides. She reaches back to unravel her braid, most of the strands have already come undone, her fingers catch in the tangles, but most of it now is surrounded by water.

Her body relaxes as the water forms around her like a second skin; Katniss closes her eyes for a second relishing in the cooler temperature.

The humidity from the room still lingers around her; Katniss takes in a deep breath, the air heavy and stagnant.

The reality of her time allotted to relax sets in as she begins to rub the bar of soap beside her over her body and hair.

The soap is heavy in her palm, and the aroma it gives off is strong and minty like the leaves her mother and Prim use for infections of the mouth.

When her body is covered in suds, Katniss closes her eyes and sinks below the surface, she can feel the water rise as her body lowers, it isn't until she can feel the rush of water around her ears that she tenses.

Her nightmare from before still lingers at the forefront of her mind, and Katniss can feel her fear of closed places threatening to strangle her.

Katniss likes to pride herself in her strengths of perseverance and resilience, but claustrophobia is a reality she has to live with.

She has to remind herself that being underneath water to bathe or swim isn't the same as being trapped in mines carved out of the earth.

After a few seconds of holding her breath, she allows herself to relax, her hands working over her scarred skin.

The areas of raised skin are familiar, and she barely notices the texture underneath her fingertips, as she rises out of the water.

Her breath comes out strangled and rushed as the air leaves before filling her lungs once more.

She opened her eyes, before rubbing them to clear her field of sight, droplets of water fall from her lashes onto her cheeks to trail down her jaw line, then land back into the pool of water.

She took a few more minutes to enjoy the cool water before pulling herself out of the tub, her bare skin dripping with water that collects around her feet as she stands on the wooden floor.

A piece of linen is hung up on the wall with an iron hook, Katniss walks to it, leaving a trail of sudsy puddles behind her, her footprints visible.

Her fingers curled into the rough fabric, and she tried to ignore the uncomfortable texture against her skin.

Although the idea that her scared skin would be sensitive to a piece of material is almost laughable to her; that any part of her physically or otherwise, could be affected by now is improbable.

Katniss hung the linen back up to dry as she walked over to the wall where a rickety table sat with her clean laundry sitting on top.

Katniss let a small smile grace her lips, the corners lifting slightly as she separates the clothing out, thinking of how neat Hazelle arranged the stack of clothing.

Gale's mother the laundress for the Seam and most of the merchant quarter had been doing her family's laundry for as long as Katniss could remember. The sweet smell of oranges, or at least an artificial aroma of the fruit that was laced through the soap that Hazelle used, filled the air.

Katniss reached for the simple white tank top, holding it to her nose, she breathed in deeply.

Katniss set the tank top down reluctantly, pleased with the feeling of warmth it brought her, even though Katniss had issues with her own mother, Katniss respected Hazelle and her ability to provide for her children even when her own grief was threatening to swallow her whole.

She searched through the clothing when her eyes landed on a pair of cotton panties that were beginning to wear at the seams and a simple bra, that her mother insisted she wear when her body began to blossom.

After putting on undergarments begrudgingly, there wasn't a way out of wearing a brazier or even panties when the temperature was so warm allowing for thinner clothing to be worn, Katniss pulled the tank top over her head pushing the material down around her hips.

She pulled on a pair of slacks that Gale had grown out of; Hazelle had donated the article of clothing and had tailored the waist line so that the pants wouldn't fall off of Katniss' hips, which were significantly narrower than Gale's.

After buttoning them and bringing up the zipper, she bent down rolling up the cuffs, stopping above her knee.

The heat was going to rise, and Katniss didn't want to have to suffer through the experience of having sweaty legs.

She walked over to other side where she had left her boots from the night before after she had changed into her nightgown, the weathered leather was familiar and she liked the way they formed to her feet.

The soles hadn't started to wear thin, and Katniss was thankful that at least something in her life was dependable, even if they were hunting boots.

She pulled the boots on after her feet slipped into socks that already had holes through the seams, the material worn thin from multiple uses.

She reached behind her, gathering the damp strands of hair together to weave them together down her back, before tying the ends together with a piece of black leather that she had left on the table beside the laundry.

The humidity in the windowless room was causing her to sweat through her clean top; she shuddered when the memory of how warm it had been the day before came to her.

With a deep sigh she walked out of the bathing room, the hinges squeaking once more as she vacated, and made her way into the main room.

Her mother had begun to stir in her sleep, she quietly mumbled something incoherent in her sleep, Katniss assumed she too was dreaming of her father, but it was likely their dreams were quite opposite in content.

She made her way to the front door, her hand firmly on the knob when she heard her mother call out to her lost love, her voice broken and fragile.

Katniss gritted her teeth and squared her shoulders, reminded of the pain that love brought. The affection she felt for Prim was understandable it came out of a sense of protection, and she and Gale had grown together out of a need of necessity, but romantic love was something she didn't see the use for, it only brought heart ache and grief, and Katniss already had her fare share of both.

She could feel her stomach begin to knot underneath the weight of her mother's grief, it still lingered through their house, unspoken but present all the same.

The heat that presses into her skin is almost nauseating as she opens the front door, stepping out onto the front porch.

The boards beneath her feet creak loudly, as she stepped off and they settle back into place.

Katniss jumped down the wobbly boards, that make up the front steps, taking two at a time, her arms extended out on each side.

Her braid swayed with her movements, the damp strands soaking through the fabric of her already thin tank top, she could feel a deep blush rising up her neck, although she wasn't positive if the flush was from her embarrassment or the heat.

She tried to push her insecurities down, as she made her way through the Seam.

The smell of coal burning had already filled the air, as well as aromas of bland breakfasts, riding on the wind to travel through opened windows.

Each house reminds Katniss of the one before it, the roof slightly crooked, paint flecked off of wooden boards, and porches that are in need of mending.

Katniss' boots kicked up dirt around her as she lightly jogged, down the dirt path, the stone path that covers the length of the town square and merchant quarters ended a mile back, presenting the difference between the two classes of people who reside in district twelve.

She didn't have long to ponder on the visible and metaphorical divide that separates the coal miners and their families from the merchant class, when she came upon the familiar wooden shanty.

The grey paint had already flaked off mostly, leaving only a couple of places on the side of the house where the wooden boards still held the color.

She slowed her pace when she rounded the front of the house; she assumed Gale would still be helping his mother with rousing his younger siblings, the day starting for them early, like it did for most Seam families.

Usually when Gale's to meet her in forest she's the first to arrive, so it was likely that he was still home, she thought as she neared the front of the house.

Perhaps she could mention to him the possibility of building her a new ladder, Gale can be crass sometimes but he lives for taking care of those he cares for, and simple tasks such as building a ladder for her and Prim, would bring him a sense of pride.

She finally rounded the corner, the front of his home now fully visible, Katniss smiled when she saw him in the yard bending over the trough that they use to water Lady, her sister's goat.

The sound of water splashing was apparent from where she was, a few yards back, Katniss couldn't fault him for wanting to cool down from the already sweltering sun, and her own desire to cover her face in water was growing.

However when she stepped closer she noticed the subtle differences, where Gale's shoulders and build are narrow, the body in front of her was more sturdy and broad.

It was also not until now that she noticed the absence of a shirt, olive skin covered the man's back that held long angry scars spanning the skin there.

Katniss couldn't take her eyes from the bare skin, she could feel the blush from before rise up her chest to stop at her hair line, and she had to assume the heat was already taking her over, because anything else would be childish and ludicrous.

She was so lost in her inner battle that she almost missed the moment when he stood up, and turned halfway, only his profile visible to her.

He moved his still damp hand through his dirty blonde hair, wetting the strands there to smooth it back out of his eyes.

Katniss stepped back in the shadow of the house, moving her body to the corner where she could watch the man, or she should say young man, in secrecy.

Her eyes landed on his muscular upper body, the skin there taut and firm, so much it sent a warm rush to her stomach until it settled below her waist.

Katniss fidgeted with the wood of the house, as she observed him closely, from her place she could spot more scars on his body, and her mind questioned their origin.

She tried to build enough confidence to ask why he's outside of the Hawthorne's home, using their property to cool off, but she couldn't find the courage to leave from behind the safety of the house.

Although there was something that seemed oddly familiar about him, a trait she couldn't seem to place.

Finally after what felt like hours, but was surely only minutes, the boy rubbed a hand over his face, and with a sigh he bounded up the rickety steps, his feet landing on the porch.

Katniss pressed her luck, stepping out from around the house to watch him closer, she was relieved when he doesn't notice her, but instead entered the house without any indication that he was aware of her intrusion.

The sudden realization of her actions came to her, and she suddenly felt foolish for acting like a mindless simpleton.

She prided herself in not behaving like the other girls in the district who would fawn and blush over a handsome boy; it also didn't escape her attention how they reacted over Gale, with his dark hair and air of mystery.

And here she was every bit the hypocrite she hoped she wasn't, her real concern should have been about a stranger entering her friend's home, not the way his muscles tensed around his ribs when he moved his arms.

Katniss could feel the warmth from before that had waned now beginning to intensify, but with it her irritation with her behavior did so too.

She was being vain and indulgent spending the time she should be using to hunt and provide for family, but instead allowing a bare chest boy to cloud her judgment.

Katniss pushed herself off of the side of the house, her pace quicker than before as she started off in a run towards the quarry that would lead her to the meadow and the fence that separated the district from the woods.

Her mind was back to the task at hand, and she was so focused that she missed the boy from before watching her from the second story window.

His eyes trained on her fleeting form, and even though the heat had taken him over from before as he moved his things into the small home, he didn't credit the heat rising up his body to the temperature, but to the girl with the raven hair that fled from the Seam.

* * *

The heat had begun to settle, reaching its apex for the day, as the sun loomed above their heads casting light through the space between leaves and branches.

She was thankful that the trees served as at least a minimal reprieve from the harsh light.

The skin at the back of her neck was already drenched in sweat, and she had to push her discomfort away so that she could concentrate on the task at hand.

She kept her bow arm extended while the other bent at the elbow, keeping her arrow properly nocked, while having to resist the urge to shield her eyes from the sunlight as she skimmed the trees above.

Her stomach had already let a low growl of hunger escape, a deep blush came over her, positive he had heard it, it would have been impossible for him not to, she assumed it had been loud enough to scare off any game in the area.

However, she had noticed when she arrived at their meeting place that he had been distracted, when she had questioned him about it; he had given her his usual wave of dismissal and a low mumble she couldn't deduce.

Katniss had decided not to push any further, she was well aware of Gale's moods, and for the most part it was best to let him wade through them in peace.

However, the silence was troubling her, because even though she and Gale respected each other for their dislike of in depth conversations, they would occasionally tease the other during their time in the woods.

It worried her how he kept to himself, his expression unreadable, which for Gale meant his mind, was in a place he was afraid to share with anyone else, and for someone who was for the most part an open book of passion and opinions, this made her stomach tie in knots.

Katniss didn't want to press the issue so she resumed, trekking through the forest with a silent, deep in thought, Gale by her side.

It wasn't long before she had a couple of rabbits at belt, she had found them scurrying out of their burrow, most likely looking for water in the warm weather.

She could feel a slight sense of relief wash over her, as the animal's back legs knocked against her thighs as she walked.

Her bow was slung around her shoulders with her quiver, her shirt already soaked through at the back with sweat.

Gale walked beside her with the few squirrels he had found in his snare lines, they weren't as thick as they would have preferred, but the meat would be useful when trading later at the hob.

He kept quiet as he held the animals in one hand and used the back of his free hand to wipe the sweat from his brow.

She could see his narrow, muscular shoulders pushed down by the heat, the satchel he brought with him to the woods was slung over his shoulders, and Katniss could see where the perspiration had collected beneath and around the canvas of the bag, as well as the thin material of his undershirt.

He walked ahead of her leading their way to the clearing that they would rest in after they had finished hunting and gathering, it was a tradition by now after years of routine.

The trees were no longer present to provide any shelter from the sun, but thankfully a breeze of cool wind had begun to work its way through the field of high grass and wild flowers.

It could be seen as a sign that the soaring temperatures were about to break and Katniss felt hopeful about the change.

Gale was first to sit down, his body hitting the ground with a hard thud, he had already pulled the strap of his bag over his shoulder laying it on the ground with his kill, before Katniss had attempted to sit.

She inhaled deeply, the floral scent moving through the air; it was peaceful here away from all of the pain that existed in the district.

She could feel her legs begin to shake slightly from the fatigue, the heat wasn't helping her stamina either, Katniss sat down slowly, concerned with falling onto the ground roughly.

She pulled the rabbits from her waist laying them on top of the squirrels that Gale had just sat down.

Movement from her right grabbed her attention; Gale's arms were nearly fully extended, when her gaze fell on him.

The material of his undershirt stuck to the perspiration on his skin, the olive tone of his complexion glistened underneath the sweat.

She couldn't help but compare his chest to that of the boy she had seen earlier on in the day, their builds were different, where one was broad and firm, Gale's was more narrow with defined muscular structure.

He also didn't seem to posses the amount of scarring that the other boy had. Gale's body wasn't exactly soft, he had acquired a number of injuries from his snare lines and a few fights he had been a part of through the years, but his skin was still more virginal than the boy from before.

Gale looked over to her his brow furrowed, as one of his hands smoothed back his dark hair, the gesture reminded her of the boy again, and she mentally scolded herself for allowing someone she had seen for a total of three minutes cloud her mind to such an extent.

He was still watching her when he pushed his discarded shirt into his lap,"What?"

Katniss could feel a blush forming at her cheeks, as her eyes looked to his bare chest,"Huh? Oh, nothing sorry."

Gale shook his head, a wry smile playing at his lips,"If you say so."

Katniss leaned back settling on her palms for support," Not to mention, I'll try not to make such a fuss over this being the first conversation we've had the entire day."

Gale leaned over picking blades of grass from the ground only to throw them out to the side,"I appreciate it."

Katniss nodded before attempting to press the conversation on,"You know I couldn't help but notice how you were out beyond the fence before I was this morning," she wiped her hands on the material of her second hand slacks, attempting to seem indifferent," I can't remember the last time that happened, you're usually at home helping with Posy and the boys, and then join me out here later."

Gale turned back to her, his grey eyes hard," Maybe you don't have to know everything about me, Katniss," he sighed when he noticed how her expression was beginning to look hurt, the guilt rising through him," I just didn't want to be home this morning. Can we leave it at that?"

They sat there in silence once again, but Katniss noticed out of the corner of her eye that he would sneak glances at her.

She nearly jumped when she felt his hand on the side of her neck, pulling the strands of hair free that had been held to her neck by sweat.

His fingers lingered there for a few seconds before he pulled them away, to rummage through his satchel.

His hand came out of the canvas bag with a water pouch, he handed it to her mutely, his eyes grazing the skin at her waist that was now visible due to her tank rising up.

She took the water cautiously, the blush that had formed before was becoming uncomfortable now, and she cursed her body for reacting to something as innocent as Gale watching her.

She wasn't a stranger to his eyes on her, and wondered why now it felt different as she tipped her head back placing the spout to her lips.

With a slight squeeze the water passed her chapped lips to coat her mouth in liquid, she sighed loudly, pleased with the sensation.

When she was finished she handed it back to Gale who studied her face before pressing the spout to his own lips.

Something passed over his face before he directed his attention to the water from her.

Before long they began to make their way back to the fence that separated the district and meadow that led into the tree line.

She tried to look the other way when Gale pulled his shirt back on, but her mind was foggy with thoughts and sensations that she wasn't sure she even understood.

The walk was tense as Gale worked through his own issues, he still wouldn't tell her why he seemed so bothered, and she was comfortable with not knowing.

Her own mind was churning as the boy from before kept pushing his way in, the way he had looked with his bare chest and damp hair was enough to take the strength out of her legs.

She felt foolish walking beside Gale while she had inappropriate thoughts about someone she hadn't even met yet, it was childish and unlike her.

When they made it closer to the meadow that led to the fence, Katniss stored her bow and quiver in a hollow tree trunk, her kills from before still hanging around her waist, while Gale waited for her at the edge of the tree line.

She tried to meet his eyes as she walked past him, but something felt off, she assumed he was still troubled from before, and she hoped the issues he was dealing with didn't have anything to do with her.

As they came closer to the fence, Gale kept lookout until Katniss was safely on the other side, before he too slipped underneath with finesse she couldn't help but admire.

She could see his shoulders tense as they walked the dirt trail that led up to the hob, district twelve's black market trading facility.

It had been originally used to house coal, but the locals had found a use for it, that insured their survival.

Most residents of the Seam were unable to afford the goods that were sold in the merchant square. So the hob was a place that was often busy, and rarely empty.

Gale was at the door first, his grip tight around the handle, Katniss could see where his knuckles had lost all color, and if she didn't know any better she would think he was hyperventilating.

Katniss reached out placing her hand over his,"Are you okay?"

Gale flinched underneath her touch, his other hand gripping the tails of his kills,"I'm fine, Katniss."

She tilted her head to the side,"You don't seem fine."

He pulled his hand free from hers,"I said I was fine," he opened the door, the humidity from the cramped building hitting her," I don't need you looking out for me."

Katniss narrowed her eyes at him before walking up to his side, "Yes you do," she pushed him aside so that she could enter," And don't pretend nothing's wrong with you."

She ignored the retort coming from his mouth as she made her way through the building, customers and traders milled around her, focused on their own business.

The hob held its own heartbeat, a living thing with a pulse of gossip and interaction.

Katniss glanced once behind her as she made her way through the crowds of barterers, the room was tight and uncomfortable in the heat.

Gale was a few feet behind her, and she sighed deeply at the turmoil in his eyes.

However, she had regretted her action when she was reminded that most of the residents who frequented the Seam weren't able to bathe as often as she was, and she noted that perhaps breathing through her mouth from now on would be wise.

Katniss was stopped abruptly when she notices a group of elderly women from the Seam, all huddled together, their voices low.

She could feel her irritation rising until she heard the last name Hawthorne being thrown around, Gale's last name.

Katniss angled her body so that it appeared she was looking through a table of fabric rather than eaves dropping, but she felt justified in her intrusion, after all Gale and his family were her family.

"I heard he moved in this morning."

"Oh my Lord, why would that woman even agree to that?"

"I'm sure that boy is as troublesome as his mother. I never did like that girl."

"Well his father wasn't any better, running after a harlot like that while his baby and young bride waited at home."

"That boy should have been left at the orphan home in nine, if you ask me."

"You just wait, that boy will be making his way through all of our innocent girls yet, and it's a sickness that can't be stopped."

"It just makes me sick that the Hawthornes are from our neck of the woods, this behavior is something that you would expect from those merchants."

Katniss could see Gale walk to the far side of the hob where she knew they usually traded their kills, she could see by the way that his shoulders slumped that he had heard everything.

Katniss was curious to what most of it meant, but it was clear to her that these women had hurt someone she cared about, and that was the surest way to enrage, Katniss Everdeen.

With a mischievous smile she pulled the rabbits from her belt, holding the dead animals by their ears, her arms extended out to her sides as she pushed through the wall of bodies the women had formed.

She could already hear the remarks of disgust as she walked through them, the rabbits even hitting a few of the women in the face.

"Oh sorry ladies, it's important I trade these before they start to stink from rot."

She smiled to herself pleased with her display until she could hear one of them speak,"See, that's exactly what happens when residents of the Seam mix with Merchants. A complete waste."

Katniss gritted her teeth, slowed her pace before she proceeded to walk towards where she saw Gale retreat to.

She held back her remark that without her, most of them would never know what fresh game tasted like, but instead she held her tongue and went about her business.

As she made her way through the crowd she could hear more gossip about Gale and his family being spread around, and finally it occurred to her that the boy, the one that so many already held distain for, was the same boy that she couldn't seem to get out of her head.

She finally spotted Gale talking with Sae, while he eats a bowl of stew, his shoulders hunched over.

Sae occasionally reached over patting him on the shoulder, earning a genuine smile from him, something that is rare from Gale.

When Katniss neared the bar that Sae had put up, she can see that Gale's kills from before have already been skinned, and are laying on her cutting board ready to be sliced and cubed.

Something wrapped in white paper sits beside him; Katniss eyed it before looking to Sae who gives her a polite shake of the head.

Katniss understood Gale's need for privacy, and she trusted the older woman's judgment, instead of questioning the parcel, Katniss placed one of the rabbits on the bar.

The older woman eyed the creature before reaching into the pockets of her skirt, and coming out with a few coins, her hand extended towards Katniss.

Katniss shook her head,"You haven't even weighed it yet, and I know I'm killing myself here but I doubt its worth that much."

Sae pushed the coins towards her,"Take it girl; I'm sure you and the boy here will make up the difference when the cold weather fattens the game up."

Katniss took the coins before stuffing them into her pockets, and nodded her thanks before turning towards Gale,"Are you ready? I have some stuff I need to do before tonight."

Gale looked over to her, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he held onto his spoon, "No, I think I'm going to stay a little while longer," he could see Katniss question him, even she could still hear the hushed tones of the people around them when they looked towards him, "But I'll see you tonight?"

Katniss nodded, a small smile on her lips,"Oh yes, and the weekly Everdeen and Hawthorne dinners."

Gale tilted his head to the side,"No you mean, Hawthorne and Everdeen?"

Katniss shook her head,"Are we always going to argue about whose name comes first?"

Gale nodded his head his lips curling at the sides,"Probably."

Katniss waved to Sae before turning on her heel to leave the cramped building, she pushed her way through the bodies, and she couldn't help but pay attention to how the whispers stopped when she drew near.

Katniss prided herself in the lineage that her father left behind for her, his skill with the bow was now hers, as was the strength she had to exercise to keep her family going, but these were the times, when others were causing pain through words towards those she cared for, that Katniss hated being from the Seam.

* * *

The temperature had dropped enough that the humidity wasn't choking her as she worked behind the house, a blade in one hand as the other held the kill firm while she slit the animal from belly to sternum.

Her knees were pressed into the dry ground, dust settled into the material of her slacks, as she hunched over preparing the animal for storage.

Usually she would be using the meat for dinner that same night, but Sundays held a sense of tradition in her house, when her family and the Hawthornes would come together once a week to share a meal.

At first it had occurred when Hazelle had noticed how emaciated the girls had become while Lily Everdeen stared lifeless out the window, waiting for her deceased husband to arrive home.

But after awhile as Lily gained her strength and realized her responsibilities it became a way for the two families to come together.

It was during this time that she felt more like part of a family, and not someone who was merely holding everything together.

Those few hours out of every week allowed her to feel like a child, and she had a great deal of respect for Hazelle Hawthorne for making that possible.

After Katniss had arrived home from the hob she exchanged short greetings with her mother, teased Prim, and made her way to the cold stone where she prepared her kills.

She had been concentrated on the task at hand when her mother came down the back steps, her hands ringing in the dish towel she held.

Katniss tried to hide her irritation at her mother's intrusion, but she found it difficult to mask the years of disappointment she held in regards to the woman.

Katniss took in a deep breath,"Do you need something?"

She continued to work as her mother shook her head, blonde strands escaping her braid,"No, I just wanted to let you know that we'll have someone else joining us tonight."

Katniss nodded, she tried to push down the warm sensation that traveled up her body,"I know. I saw him move into the Hawthorne's this morning," Katniss stopped her movements with the knife to look up at her mother,"I was beginning to think the old ladies at the hob would go dry mouth by all the jaw jacking they were doing about him."

Her mother waved her hand in the air, "Well you know how they like to talk," she pushed her hair behind her ears, the dish rag brushing her cheek, "Anyway I didn't want you or Prim to be shocked by it and make a big fuss, as it is I think the boy is overwhelmed by it all already."

Katniss nodded her agreement before going back to her work; she hoped her mother had gotten the hint when she began to ignore her attempt at small talk.

The tension began to ebb as she heard her mother retreat back into the house. It wasn't long until she found her pace from before the interruption, the air around her settling.

The low hiss of the cat beside her caught her by surprise, her knife sliding back, an inch from cutting the inside of her hand.

Katniss slammed the blade down, before pulling some of the entrails out to throw in the cat's direction. The organ landed a foot from the animal before he was above it, inhaling quickly.

"There you go you stupid waste of space! I should fatten you up so when I cook you there'll be some sufficient meat!"

Katniss picked her knife back up as she made the last small cuts, before the carcass was ready to be hollowed out.

The sudden sound of footsteps behind her caught her attention, her posture righting.

Katniss grip tightened on the knife, the tread was heavier than her mother's or sister's, and she had grown accustomed to recognizing the sound that Gale's made.

Fear settled in her stomach, occasionally one of miners would celebrate their leisure during the weekends too much, and problems would ensue.

Katniss took a deep breath when the footsteps neared her, before she whirled around, jumping to her feet, the knife prone and ready to jut out.

She couldn't hide the shock on her face, or her wide eyes, when the boy from before came into view.

He held his hands up, causing the hem of his shirt to rise revealing an inch of olive colored skin,"Whoa!"

Katniss kept the knife extended out in his direction; she could see his eyes widen as he took her in.

She could only imagine how she looked with animal blood staining her clothes, her hair mussed from the heat and exhaustion of the day.

She couldn't stop the familiar blush that seemed to be present anytime he's seen or thought of lately, and it's then that she took in his appearance; his features are more striking up close.

His jaw line extended up to a high bone structure that only enhanced the startling blue eyes staring back at her, as dirty blonde hair hung around his cheek bones.

However the deep cut below his eyes was hard to avoid as was the bruise that marred his olive skin, the tone was lighter than most that come from the Seam, and it spurned her curiosity of where exactly he was from.

Her posture had relaxed, and she followed his eyes to her hand, she felt embarrassed for putting on such a display, but it seemed he already had a way of making her feel foolish without really trying.

Katniss lowered the knife before tossing it next to the skinless rabbit.

His voice came out lower than she would have expected, and it ignited the blush that had settled at her chest, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have startled you," he reached up moving his hand through his hair nervously, it caught Katniss by surprise how enthralled she was by the simple action, "I'm Peeta."

Katniss ignored the way her pulse quickened for a few seconds before slowing back down, "I know who you are," she shook her head, rubbing her filthy hands on the sides of her slacks, "Well, I didn't know your name, but it seems the district can't speak of anything else. You seem to already be quite popular."

He lowered his eyes, the side of his mouth lifting but the smile didn't reach his eyes, "Popular isn't what I would call it," he looked back up catching her gaze once more, "So, it looks like I'm at a disadvantage since you seem to know me, but I don't know you."

Katniss tried to advert her gaze, but she couldn't bring herself to pull away from his eyes,"Katniss."

Peeta's small smile faltered; something close to disappointment appears in his eyes,"So you're Gale's Katniss?"

Katniss narrowed her eyes,"No, I'm not. There's no possession before my name. I'm just Katniss."

Peeta nodded and the smile from before formed at his lips, "I'll have to remember that, just Katniss," Peeta ran his hands through his hair again, as sweat collected at the back of his neck, "You know next time you want to watch me when I'm half naked all you have to do is ask. I really have no problem with you watching me. There's no need for you to hide beside the house."

Katniss let out an aggravated sigh before speaking,"I wasn't watching you, and maybe you should remember that bathing should be done inside, not where everyone can see."

Peeta shook his head,"I wasn't bathing, and I don't think it's inappropriate to cool down," his eyes moved over her body, and it wasn't until then that she realized how thin her tank top really is, the perspiration from before making her skin underneath visible, this sent her skin to new heights of warmth," but I'm sorry if I offended you."

Katniss watched as he turned on his heel to walk back down the dirt path, before speaking over his shoulder,"I'll see you around."

She rolled her eyes,"Of course you will, the Hawthornes only live a few houses down the path."

Peeta stopped to turn around, his light colored hair falling into his eyes,"Well then I guess I'll be seeing you sooner than I thought."

Katniss nodded," Tonight actually."

Peeta stood there watching her before what Katniss could describe as a blush reaching his cheeks," I can't wait."

There was something in his voice that took her a back, and the way that he looked at her made her breath catch.

Katniss followed his form as he walked backwards, their eyes locked before he turned around.

She felt a sense of loss when the view of him was obstructed by the side of the house, and this only further irritated her.

Katniss hated not being in control and it only seemed that the longer she was around this one particular young man, everything seemed to be anything but predictable.

* * *

_A/N: I should have an update posted in a week or so. I'm also writing another Everlark fic, so keep an eye out for it also. Thank you._ **And Remember to Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you to everyone who has taken an interest in this story, by reviewing, following, or placing it in their favorites even though it's been over half a year since I've updated. I plan on finishing this story as well as my other WIP, 'Touched'._

_This chapter **has not been Beta'd** so bare with me and all of my minor errors._

Chapter Two

The pain at the back of his knees is stabbing as he crouches down in front of the old trunk, the scratches there deeper than most of the others that now litter his body, a morose reminder of his stay at the orphan home in nine.

The wooden slats forming the floor of the second story creak underneath his weight as the pads of his feet and toes strain to right his balance.

He releases one last heavy sigh before he reaches for the corroded metal latch, the once golden finish a deep green from years of wear and exposure.

Tiny flecks of painted metal flack off on his fingers as they grip onto the fastening. The faded varnished shavings tickle the pads of his fingers before he brushes them quickly at the thigh of his slacks, the material now covered with shiny metal.

With one last effort of avoidance, he lifted the latch earning a deep popping sound signifying that he now had access to the items that were housed in the worn leather trunk.

With one hand, the other holding onto the side for balance, Peeta lifted the heavy lid, the hinges hissing from years of use and inattention.

A gust of dust and the scent of mildew wafted out of the luggage in a rush, the fresh air mixing in with the interior, he had to resist the need to cough followed by gagging, the silk lining long ago ruined by water damage.

He had debated on bringing anything more than could fit into his canvas satchel, when he was aware of his move from the orphanage, but he felt strange about leaving the few possessions he had behind.

It was true that his childhood for the most part hadn't been glowing, but the tattered books and yellowed pictures were the only things he had left of Mr. Mellark, the only man he had known as a father, even if he wasn't the one who Peeta had genetic ties to.

The lid flew back as Peeta pushed it open, the weight of the lid and the force causing the bottom of the trunk to rattle for a few seconds before settling.

He rose up further, arching his back to bend over the lip of the trunk to peer inside; the items that he had placed and organized carefully were now tipped on their sides and tousled.

Peeta let out an aggravated sigh, before reaching into the trunk, his fingers skimming over the spines of the toppled books, their leather binding broken and worn soft underneath his finger tips.

Peeta choked back a sob that threatened to escape from his throat when memories of Luka Mellark began to flood his mind, always a gentle man with an easy smile.

With the back of his free hand, Peeta wiped the tears forming at his eyes as he took in a deep breath.

He could feel his pulse steady with his breathing as he looked over to the left side of the luggage, the edge of a faded photograph peeked out from underneath a stack of books.

Peeta was already aware of what the photo was of, and he dreaded having to reach for it, as he cleared out most of his belongings.

With trepidation, he slid his hand that had been skimming the titles of the books; over to the corner where the picture was placed, his anxiety rising once more, the pulse point at his neck throbbed.

The books moved over to the side easily, a few flipping on their backs, the pages fluttering quickly sending the scent of aged paper into the air, before settling.

His eyes landed on the thin piece of paper that held the somber faces, the black and white coloring had faded into a pale yellow from age, and the ends had already stated to curl into themselves.

Peeta traced the lines of her face gently, afraid that anymore of an effort would send him into a rage, and he was curious of how someone so young as she was in the photograph had already held so much animosity.

Even with the subtle hues, her blond curls were full and bright, making Peeta confounded on how someone could appear to be so vibrant but be so spiteful inside.

He could assume why she had been sought after when she was a young woman, because even after all of these years her beauty was still substantial, and her determination to get her way hadn't diminished either.

His mother wasn't a woman who liked to be told what she was permitted to do or with who she wished to commit the action with.

So when he had learned at an early age about his paternity, it hadn't surprised him in the least that she had conceived a child with another woman's spouse.

He closed his eyes tightly, a deep breath escaping between his teeth as he locked his jaw, his incisors grinding against each other.

A deep hiss filled the space around him before he opened his eyes to look back at the picture, her posture proper as a cotton dress hugged her curves, it wasn't difficult to decipher that she had come from a merchant family, her cheeks full, without the sunken appearance of hunger he had witnessed firsthand during his stay at the orphan home.

Peeta couldn't help but resent her for her selfishness, indiscretions, and the pain she had happily inflicted on him as a child, and even more so he tried not to hate her for the way he had been created.

It had been apparent how the towns' people already felt about him, their assumptions were more than enough adequate for them, before he even had the chance to prove himself, he was already deemed a problem. His mother had damned him, because he was already seen as a troublesome nuisance, a sideshow freak to entertain the masses.

Peeta exhaled loudly before pushing himself up from the floor, his legs stiff at first, the bruises above and beneath his skin burned and pulsed for a few seconds, before his legs regained their feeling and his balance with it.

The lid still hangs over the side, the hinges creaking from the movement of Peeta pushing off of the luggage, until the metal quiets, the items in the trunk still on display, haunting and mocking him as he stared down into it.

The photograph of his mother when she was a young woman, he assumed it had been taken around or during the time she carried on affair with his birth father, was still facing up, and even with her presence being in the form of a photo he could still feel his stomach twist in knots.

Peeta bent down quickly reaching for a book in the trunk, when his grip was solid, he threw the book onto the photo, blocking his view of it, and even with such a trivial act he could breathe easier.

His body was still sore from the few previous days the bruises and cuts were still fresh enough to cause him discomfort, and the emotional exhaustion was as nearly trying as the physical.

So when his balance faltered sending him forward a couple of steps he didn't think much of it.

He sighed before looking up toward the far wall of the room when his eyes met the cracked mirror.

His reflection peculiar due to the separation of glass, the lines and symmetry of his face broken, but even with the askew view he could still clearly see the bruises and cuts marring his skin.

Peeta turned his back to the memories held in the trunk to walk the length of the room to the mirror, his pace rushed and a bit clumsy.

He could see his reflection shrink as he approached the mirror, his face now back in tact now that only one side of the mirror was needed.

Peeta kept his locked on the familiar blue eyes, deep lines and circles covering the skin along and beneath his lids.

He reached out to the mirror tracing the lines of the bruises on the glass before gently placing his fingertips to the sensitive skin, causing him to wince, even the light pressure uncomfortable.

Superficial cuts ran over the bridge of his nose blending into the dark purples and swelled skin of his bruises, he can only imagine how he'll appear to the town when he arrives at school the following day, they've already branded him as a careless womanizer, he can hear the murmurs coming from the gossips lips of his violent nature already.

Peeta moves his fingers from under his eyes to gently slid across his face to the light cuts at his nose, the scrapes placed where the collection of freckles litter across his nose.

It had always been interesting to him, especially when he was younger, that his mother and father had fairer complexions than him, but as he arrived in the Seam he noticed that the tone of his olive skin was shades lighter than anyone else around him, which made him feel even more, separated from the people around him. He couldn't properly blend, he would forever be seen as conspicuous, doomed to be noticed and judged.

And it's then that the image of the petite girl with the braid came into his mind, her skin glistening from the sweat that covered her body, the thin material of her tank top clinging to her chest, revealing the curve and swell of her breasts.

He had been interested by her when he had spotted her working behind her house, he had needed a distraction from his reality, the reason he had gone for a walk through the Seam, and she had caught his attention, the skin of her lower back peeking out from the worn material.

When she had turned on him, her eyes wide and wild, blood covering the front of her body a knife held in her grip, he had been oddly intrigued and shamefully aroused.

She had something that set her apart from most, and he couldn't help but let his mind wander, her words almost drowned out by his fantasies.

However, when she had introduced herself and he had come to the realization that she was the girl that Gale had been speaking of earlier, his stomach had knotted up, and he head felt sick.

Her adamant protests about she and Gale not being involved, had helped him relax, the dread that he may be attracted to a woman that another man had claim to made him feel ill.

It had been difficult to walk away from her, and he had to stop himself from closing the gap between their bodies.

Peeta closed his eyes forcing his mind back into the present, he knew he could lose himself in thinking about her, and it frightened him how much he wanted her already.

It was clearly childish and in all respects delusional to feel a connection to a complete stranger after only a brief meeting and a few words shared.

However the curve of her shoulder and the skin there with a dust of freckles escaping underneath the strap of her top, played in his mind continuously, and he couldn't help the curiosity he had towards her.

Peeta let out a deep sigh before curling his fingers in the fabric of his undershirt, the hem damp from his sweat, the tips of his fingers brushing over a portion of skin at his waist where he could feel the sunken crater of skin, his fingers recoiled and he resisted the urge to push his shirt back down instead he gritted his teeth.

He squeezed his eyes together tighter, before inhaling slowly as the fabric moved up his body with the in tune with his breathing, Peeta was cautious not to allow his fingers to touch his skin, he wanted to delay the image for as long as he could.

The joints at his elbows popped slightly as he extended his arms fully, the wind entering the room from the open window blew against the exposed skin, giving it a short relief from the heat before the humidity of the room set in.

Peeta pulled the shirt over his jaw before it traveled over his face, before being discarded on the floor beside him.

He forced his eyes open, so that it could be easier to find a replacement article of clothing, but he was careful not to glance over to the side where the mirror was, he was fully of aware of what he would see, and he wasn't ready to look upon his flawed skin just yet.

Peeta made the short walk over to the one of the twin beds that were placed up against the wall of the room, where his canvas satchel sat, the flap pulled free, as the bag laid on its side, a couple of shirts hanging halfway out.

The edge of his sketch book had slid out along with his clothing and for a few seconds he felt a panic rise up through him.

His knees knocked against the metal of the bed frame resulting from his haste, a sharp hiss escaped his lips as he pushed the book of papers back into the satchel, while his other hand pulled the light fabric of the button up shirt free.

Peeta pulled it out fully tossing it to the head of the bed, discarded the thought of changing for a few seconds as he turned his attention to the inside of the bag where the sketch book was now placed securely.

He slid his hand in, the tips of his fingers brushing up against the aged leather binding, the material soft from where he had creased the edges from years of use.

Peeta was aware of how foolish it seemed that he become wound up over someone discovering his sketches, it wasn't as if he hid the fact that he drew from the world.

Ink markings were on the side of his satchel, where he had penned a vast landscape he had pictured in his mind.

Dark lines bled into the canvas of the bag, the ink separating from the material to eventually set, presenting to the world his hobby.

It was something that had kept him sane through the years, his art had been his life line through abandonment and pain, and he wasn't ready to share it with others.

Peeta took a deep breath before pulling his hand free to push the other articles of clothing into the bag before closing the flap.

A cool breeze traveled through the window to brush against his bare skin, bringing him back into the present, Peeta reached to the front of the bed, pulling the shirt to his body.

The material was soft against the skin of his stomach as he undid the buttons before spinning the shirt around and pulling the material over his arms.

Normally he would have worn the undershirt he had on during moving, but Hazelle had been kindly adamant about him looking presentable when their guests arrived.

Peeta felt awkward imposing on an obvious family tradition that the Hawthornes had with the other family.

He already felt odd staying in district twelve and his anxiety was only increased with having to seem comfortable with in the family dynamic.

Peeta knew he was an outsider, it would have been easier for him if Hazelle had treated him as the nuisance he was, but instead she had shown him nothing but kindness and he knew she wasn't aware of how painful it was to him.

He was halfway done with buttoning up his shirt when he heard footsteps coming up the landing of the loft where he stood dressing.

Peeta buttoned the rest of his shirt before the weight of someone else's presence caused the wooden slats to creak and bow slightly.

A disapproving snort sounded behind him before he had the chance to turn around, Peeta breathed in deeply before faking a smile, the curl of his lips feeling spurious.

He wasn't surprised to find Gale scowling at him from the side of a stack of boxes he held against his chest, his arms circled around the sides.

Peeta fought the urge to glare back as he reminded himself that his intrusion had to be hardest on Gale and that perhaps the older boy was due his understanding.

So when Gale kept his scowl, Peeta consciously wavered, darting his eyes to the side to appear nervous, earning a satisfied smirk to curl the sides of Gale's lips.

The muscles at his back tensed in disapproval, but Peeta waved off any sense of pride he felt entitled to claim.

He could feel the mood lift slightly with Gale reassured that he was the dominant male, and Peeta merely the permissive intruder.

It had always been interesting to him how false reassurances could quell the most wicked of tempers, manipulation being a skill he had used at the orphanage saving him from some beatings.

Gale keeps his eyes trained on Peeta, before shrugging slowly as he moved over to the bed on the far left that was positioned underneath the slats that completed the roof of the second floor.

Peeta watched as he tossed the boxes onto the mattress haphazardly, his arms still outstretched when he turned back towards the younger boy, ignoring the wave of clothing and trinkets that now pour on the thread bare quilt.

"I can't wait for it to rain and leak water all over me as I try to sleep," Gale paused for a few seconds to grit his teeth and lower his arms before speaking," but even then rain water won't be my worst fear seeing that Vick has been having accidents lately."

Peeta could feel the tension in the room mount, the pressure threatening to crush any of the resolve he had left, and with that the shallow layer of tolerance he grasp onto when dealing with Gale would be gone.

He could see Gale shake, his anger physically manifesting in a wave of tremors and labored breathing.

Peeta began to speak before Gale beat him to it, "Do you know why he's been wetting the bed, lately? Because he can't seem to stop the nightmares that consist of watching our father burn to death in a mine. Which were under control until he heard you existed, and now all the horrors are back. Why? Because you're here," Gale pushed his hands through his hair roughly," And the reason why I haven't been able to repair the roof is because I've been so busy keeping everything going and everybody together, but here you are and all you have to do is just exist."

Peeta swallowed slowly before reacting, his voice coming out heavy and forced, "I never wanted… I don't want to be an inconvenience for you or your family. It wasn't my choice to come here, and I'm sorry if my presence has caused any pain."

Gale lets out a low laugh, the expression is riddled with discontent and it hangs in the air like poison, "Caused any pain," Gale started his approach towards Peeta his footing deliberate,"All you've done is cause pain."

Peeta could feel the anger raise up through his body, his patience becoming thinned, "I'm hardly the one you should be angry with, I'm just as much as innocent in all of this as you are."

Gale nodded slowly," Yeah well, his dead remember? There's not much use in hating him now."

Peeta kept his eyes dead set on Gale's, "Neither is there in hating me."

"You'd be surprised in how useful it can be."

It was Peeta's turn to nod, "Well Gale, I'm glad I can help out in at least one way. It's quite wasteful to let all of your anger be directed towards someone who can no longer feel pain."

Gale watched Peeta closely before turning away, breaking eye contact, "You need to hurry up with all your crap, _my families_ guests will be here soon."

Peeta shrugged, "I'll do my best, Gale."

The older boy glared at Peeta before turning on his heel, walking the short distance to the landing and descending down the stairs leading him to the first floor of the dwelling.

Peeta could feel the tension in his muscles subside if only partially, but he was glad for the momentary relief.

Even before he had arrived in the district he was aware of negative responses he would receive, but none of his assumptions could have guessed how angry the oldest Hawthorne was, and how much of his rage was directed towards Peeta who as much of a victim in all of this mess as he was.

A part of him was curious if staying in the orphanage back in district nine would have been a wiser choice, even with all the abuse he had endured, at least there he was aware of the dynamics and terrain, he could easily navigate through all the manic personalities there, and he had even made it almost bearable to live there after he had made friends with some of the more violent older boys.

But here he was outnumbered and vulnerable, in a place that already knew all of his secrets, even if he didn't.

Peeta could hear faintly the voices of Gale and his mother, over the joyful giggles of Posy, the youngest of the Hawthorne children, as Rory through her up into the air to catch her only moments later.

It pained Peeta to invade into such a private family moment, even if he was only partially hearing most of the exchanges.

He ran his hands through his thick hair, ends of the strands pushed out from between his fingers to wildly splay against the skin of white knuckles, the coloration gone from the vise grip that he now had on the roots of hair, Peeta could feel the slight tug at his scalp.

With his head bowed and his shoulders slumped, his feet took him over to the mirror that was nailed to the wall closest to the window.

It took him a few seconds of watching the tips of his worn leather shoes before he looked up slowly, his eyes inching up every inch, the thin breaks stemming up from the wood guided him to his reflection, the image slightly altered from the crack in the glass.

It took a few seconds before his vision righted and he could clearly see himself in the aged glass, his hands holding tight onto his hair, his arms raised, the image seeming manic and almost mad to him.

To be truthful the entire situation was enough to cause someone to become insane with unanswered questions hanging over his head, and a past that he would rather forget than have nightmares of every time he shut his eyes, a waking never ending time of pain and loneliness.

Peeta lowered his arms from around his ears, his fingers releasing his hair, the pain ebbing slightly from the grasp he had on the strands.

His eyes traveling to his nose where a patch of freckles lightly sprinkled over the bridge, the pigment different than the olive skin of his face, he studied the markings that stopped at the corner of his right eye.

He tried to not look away but his appearance always made him feel empty, light scarring was at his cheek from a strike that he had received from his mother when he was younger and the bruising from the orphanage was still obvious, even to the most oblivious of people.

He was battered and broken and the worst was that he couldn't hide it, because it was easier to be secretive about your longing and pain when you felt something emotionally and mentally but to physically have the torment litter your body was a way for the outside world to see just how dispensable and tragic you really were.

Peeta fought off the tears that threatened to well at his eyes; instead he pushed the emotions down into his gut only to have them tighten at his chest, the pressure almost overwhelming.

He could feel himself drifting back into that space of madness, when a sound from outside the opened window drew his attention down to the side of the house.

The warm wind traveling through the curtains carrying with it the hint of abandoning joy inside a light bought of laughter.

Peeta sharply turned his head in the direction of the sound, his body nearly colliding with the wall in the process.

He could feel his muscles tighten throughout his body as the anticipation of discovering her beneath his window, began to rise up through him.

He caught the smallest bit of dark hair weaved into a tight braid from where he stood, but her voice was what assured him of her presence if only a bit quieter than a few seconds before, slight so that only the petite blonde she held onto could hear but it was still commanding and Peeta couldn't help but lean closer to the window so that he could attain a better view of her.

She had changed out of the sweaty clothing he had seen her in from before, her skin not as flushed as it had been and part of him liked the image of her not being so controlled.

Peeta shook his head scolding himself of thinking about a girl he had only met a few hours ago in such a way, before he stood up quickly, banging his head onto the frame securing the glass pane.

The window shook and the clatter echoed through the room, Peeta hunched down quickly his right hand going to the back of his skull where the pain radiated from while the other hand secured his balance against the bottom half of the wall.

He could hear light hearted giggles coming from outside from where he squatted and he grimaced at the fact that she most likely witnessed his moment of stupidity.

It isn't until he hears the voices of those downstairs rise, and the front door opening and closing from the arrival of their visitors that Peeta begins to stand upright, it takes all of his will power not to fall forward from dizziness as he rights his footing, and heads towards the staircase that leads down to the first floor.

Peeta wipes the sweat coating his palms onto his pants, before he attempts to smooth the wrinkles from his shirt.

His footsteps are louder than he would have wanted, the sound alerting everyone to his presence. All eyes fall on him and he's extremely aware of the pair of grey eyes that find his, her expression is indifferent and Peeta has to fight the hurt from showing up in the lines around his mouth.

However, Gale's narrowed eyes and glare are easy to decipher and Peeta has to fight the urge to glare back, in a natural attempt at defiance.

He's almost to the last step when he notices Hazelle motion to the top of her head and then towards him, he's puzzled to what she's indicating when all of a sudden he remembers that his hair is still standing straight up from his scalp from when he had been tugging at it.

He nervously presses his dark blonde hair down, a few more giggles come from Posy and the blonde girl that Katniss had been talking to, when everyone else turns their attention from him to other matters in the room.

Even she turns from him and he feels a pain in his chest he wasn't aware that he could feel, however the curiosity of the sensation is gone from his mind when Gale begins to walk towards him, his eyes still narrowed at Peeta.

Everything begins to go still, as Gale approaches him, his stride exact and determined, a sick feeling begins to rise up from Peeta's stomach into his mouth, as his own footing in pushed back into the railing of the stair case.

He can't help but notice the same sensations caused by the moments before he's been beaten in the past rush through him, sickly, numb and unyielding of fear.

However even with his emotions threatening to cloud his mind he kept his resolve to stay calm, he didn't want to let on to anyone, especially Gale that he was as much troubled as his wounds entailed.

He could feel the corner of the railing press into the middle of his spine and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from grimacing.

Peeta didn't have long to adjust his back against the wooden railing before Gale leaned into him, the height difference apparent and another reason for Peeta to feel intimidated by the older boy's presence.

Gale was low enough for their conversation to be private in the small space, but the edge it held from before had deepened, "I don't want you here," Gale took a second to look back at the gathering in the center of the room his eyes watching the girl with the dark braid before turning back to Peeta,"But since I can't seem to get rid of you for _now_, I expect you to treat those three women with respect. They mean a lot to me and this family, so I expect you to stay in line."

Peeta nodded sharply, the insides of his cheeks began to swell from the number of times he had bitten into them to control his temper, "I understand, Gale."

Gale narrowed his eyes before speaking once more, "And don't think I didn't notice the way you were looking at her."

"You'll have to be more specific, there are more than a few females in this room."

The sides of Peeta's mouth begin to curl up in a sardonic matter, before Gale steps into the last remaining space separating them, his voice low and hard, "I would think you of all people would realize how foolish it is to mess around where you don't belong," there's a short pause before he continues," something your mother never came to grips with."

Peeta couldn't hide his shock, his eyes widening, he opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a small hand tugging at the sleeve of his shirt.

His eyes traveled from Gale's scowl to a mess of dark curls surrounding a round face and bright eyes.

He couldn't help the smile that was now formed at his lips, as she stared up at him, her petite fingers curled into the hook of his elbow, hanging onto the fabric there.

Posy had managed to wriggle in between the two older boys without either knowing of her presence until she was ready; Peeta couldn't help but be impressed by how someone so rambunctious could obtain such stealth.

"Who are you?"

Peeta opened his mouth to speak before closing it soon after until opening it to mutter quietly seconds later, "Well, I-"

Posy tipped her head to the side, as she arched her back, causing Gale to back up slightly,"Are you my brother?"

Gale's voice broke through the tension, sharp and unrelenting, "He's not your brother, Posy."

Posy kept her eyes trained on Peeta, awaiting his answer, as she clearly ignored Gale, "Well?"

Peeta furrowed his brow, before answering softly, confused as to how to react, "I don't really know what I am."

Posy shrugged her shoulders, her dark curls falling back behind her, "Okay."

She pushed her body from between the two older boys, rounding behind Gale as Peeta could see her fleeting form heading towards the gathering of women at the center of the room, her voice booming, "He doesn't know what he is!"

Peeta could feel his cheeks already beginning to burn before he caught her grey eyes summing him up, her expression unreadable and stoic.

He was lost in the sight of her, that he nearly missed the moment Gale pushed his shoulder back causing him to falter slightly.

It may have looked like a friendly exchange between two young men but Peeta was all too aware of the intended meaning.

He had spent most of his childhood living in district orphanages, which had equipped him with an understanding when an underrated nudge meant so much more, and it had been his experience that violence ensued soon after.

It took Peeta only seconds to resolve the thread of calm he had been gripping onto before he noticed that her gaze hadn't left him, causing the blush that had started at his cheeks to travel down beneath his shirt to cover his broad bruised chest.

Gale had made his way to the other side of the room, instructing the younger boy, Rory, to begin helping their mother with the setting of the dining table, a sturdy piece of carpentry that had clearly been crafted by hand, bumps and indentions traveled alongside the surface, giving it its authenticity.

With Gale out of hearing range, or most importantly far enough to prevent him from causing bodily harm, Peeta took the last few heavy steps toward the center of the room where the women stood.

Posy ran around the crowd, her curls bouncing around her face as the petite blonde from before bent down slightly to poke at her sides, when the little girl rounded behind her.

Peeta had devoted most of his energy towards moving his body forward that he didn't notice when Posy collided into his side, until the burn from his bruises and fresh cuts invaded his senses.

Peeta gritted his teeth to keep from crying out, a small sheen of sweat formed at his brows as he looked down at his side, Posy's bright smile stretched across her face.

"Sorry."

Peeta shrugged slightly, the pain beginning to wane, "It's alright."

A clearing of someone's throat in front of him, warded his attention, causing him to yet again stare into her watchful gaze.

It was uncomfortable for him, as to how it already came far too easy for her to unnerve him.

A slight petite blonde woman who matched the features of the one, who had shared laughter with Katniss, stepped into his line of sight obstructing his view of the girl, her hand outstretched, "I'm Lily Everdeen, it's very nice to finally meet you…officially."

Peeta gave a slight nod of recognition before he took her hand in his, "Maam."

Lily drew her hand back before placing it on the shoulder of the blonde beside her, "This is my youngest daughter, Primrose, "Peeta gave a slight nod before following Lily's motioning hand towards the girl who made his stomach bottom out," and this is my daughter-"

Peeta's voice cut in abruptly as he stepped to the side of Mrs. Everdeen regaining his view of the dark haired girl, "Katniss," pairs of brows peeked in confusion and curiosity," oh, we've met."

Her tone was firm and quick, "Briefly."

Peeta looked down towards his feet quickly before raising his face back to hers, a crooked smirk forming at his lips, "But memorable."

The shock gracing her features, muddled with the blush rushing over her sharp bone structure is short lived, before her expression is once again indifferent, but Peeta can't help but revel in the few seconds that he caught her off guard, something he assumes is a rarity in her case.

The soft blue fabric of the wrap dress bunches at her shoulders as she straightens her posture, causing the collar to fall slightly revealing an area of exposed skin at chest above her cleavage.

He can't help but feel disgusted with how easily his eyes travel down around her collarbone, before hearing a deep cough causing his sight upward where she now narrows her eyes at him as the others make their way to dining table.

Peeta attempts to mumble out an apology, as Katniss studies him once more before turning on her heel to join the others, leaving him standing alone to mentally scold himself.

The simultaneous conversations muddle together, echoing through the first floor of the Hawthorne residence, making it difficult for an outsider such as Peeta to decipher through the myriad of communication.

He trails behind Katniss who seems, along with her mother and sister, more than at home, which leads him to assume as to how complicated her relationship with Gale, really is.

He can't help the hollow feeling he feels rising up his chest or the sudden connection he now relates to her.

Everyone takes their designated seats to begin, which only makes Peeta feel even more disconnected being the sole new comer.

He watches the younger boys push each other playfully, until Rory pushes his brothers face to the side so he can pay more attention to Prim and her in depth speech on herbal remedies.

Peeta has to hide his amusement on how smitten the younger boy seems towards the soft spoken petite blonde, who seems all but clueless of the Rory's feelings towards her.

Posy on the other side has already begun to prattle on about a wayward squirrel she saw this morning as she placing her grubby hands into her water glass, watching the liquid swirl and take up the flecks of dirt she hadn't washed off before eating.

Hazelle is quick to fetch her hands out, shaking the fingers into the air to dry them, a slight smile on her lips as she tries to scold the little girl who slumps in her chair annoyed.

Out of the corner of his eyes he can see Gale and Katniss in deep conversation, as he's tempted to turn towards them, but instead he keeps his place, standing at the corner of the table observing.

He's so preoccupied with taking in the display before him he nearly misses his name being called over the commotion of the room.

He searches the table for the origin to finally come in contact with Mrs. Everdeen's bright smile, "Peeta," she motions to a chair that remains empty two spots to her left," here come sit."

Peeta doesn't pay much mind to the location of the chair until he rounds the table, and finds it to be to Katniss' right, where she has begun to fidget with the end of her dark braid.

Her nimble fingers thread through the ends of the curling strands, his eyes on her movements that he causes himself to run into the side of the chair to her left, where Gale is now seated, his glare hard and stern.

Peeta can hear him comment on how foolish Peeta seems, as he makes his way behind his chair, pulling it out and seating beside Katniss with Gale on her other side.

The tension is already unbearable, and Peeta fights the urge to shake his leg uncontrollably, he knows that especially now it's wise not to annoy Gale any further, but Peeta has a sneaking suspicion that his nervousness has more to do with the girl beside him than Gale's anger.

He barely has time to settle in before plates of meager servings of food are passed back and forth; eager hands reach out and dispense sensible amounts.

Peeta keeps still, his hands resting on his knees, as he watches the younger children already pushing the broth based stew into their mouths.

Rory desperately tries to bring Prim into a conversation but she only scolds him for talking with a full mouth, droplets of broth and saliva already litter his sleeve, his cheeks burn as he hangs his head eating in silence.

Peeta fights the urge to groan when his stomach turns and cramps from hunger, but growing up in an orphanage taught him that permission first was the most accurate way not to earn a beating.

He felt himself flinch from the sudden movement of a hand to his left, years of abuse had wired his body to avoiding the onslaught, but the only thing that became struck was the worn porcelain plate in front of him, as a serving of stew appeared beside him.

Peeta looked over to his left to lock eyes with her; the steely grey he had become acquainted with now held softness to them.

She motioned to his plate, nodding to it quickly, "You better eat now or there won't be anything left for you, not with the younger ones."

Peeta nodded his thanks to her before reaching for his utensil, and brushing it beneath the pile of food.

He kept his eyes to his plate as he ate slowly, the cuts around his mouth made the action painful but he still had to eat or the physically ache he already had would only worsen.

Occasionally he would look up, but the tension and intense glares Gale was sending his way only made him want to cower.

The normal commotion had died down and only the scrapping of metal onto porcelain, and the occasional rickety sound of chairs settling on wooden floors filled the room.

Peeta couldn't help but wonder if he was the cause of the silence but rational reason led him to the obvious conclusion that he was, he was the only factor.

Also the fact that he could feel the warmth of her skin brush against his wasn't helping the nausea that traveled up through his body, or the urge to reach out to her.

At point he had nearly fell out of his seat when her bare knees had brushed his thigh, and he found himself sitting awkwardly, his legs pressed tightly together, to create enough distance from their bodies.

Peeta could hear Gale from his left mumble strings of obscenities, as he scraped his fork along his plate, which only earned him a warning glare from Hazelle across the table.

Vick had joined in with his older brother, sending Peeta hateful glares from across the table, while Rory was far too interested in watching Prim, but Peeta was positive that if the blonde hadn't been present that Rory would have been all too willing to join in with Vick to follow Gale's suite.

Posy had resumed playing in her water glass as Mrs. Everdeen playfully poked at her and attempted to have her join in on a nursery game where she had to name all the animals that started with the chosen letter.

She had been thrilled to shout out the appropriate letter that she was utterly oblivious to the happenings around her.

Peeta nearly jumped when Prim's soft voice sounded, cutting the silence, "Peeta what in the world happened to your face? It's such a shame for someone so handsome to have such ugly markings."

Peeta blushed in embarrassed as Katniss sat her fork down, causing it to land in a clatter, "Prim!"

Rory glowered at Peeta, "He's not that handsome."

Katniss interrupted Rory's string of mumbling, "Prim, don't be so nosy."

Peeta cleared his throat before sneaking a glance at Katniss, "It's alright," Peeta ran his fingers through his hair before continuing,"I just got into a fight…a couple of times."

Gale threw his fork down nearly causing his glass to fall over, "Great! So we're housing a delinquent who we can't afford to have stay here?!"

Hazelle's voice came out forceful, "Gale!"

Gale sat up in his chair, "No, mother! I think we should all just cut the crap and explain to us why we have to pay for father's mistake!"

"Gale this is not the time or place for this discussion."

"Why not everyone's family, "Gale motioned to his right," well except him. And I think the Everdeens should know why they'll be receiving less food from now on."

Hazelle's voice was sharp and Peeta felt nauseous listening to the force littered through it, "Gale."

"I don't know why you even brought him here, he doesn't belong here! Take him back!"

Hazelle slammed her hand down, causing everyone at the table to jump, "Enough!"

Posy drew her fingers out of her glass before slinking down and raising the tips to her lips, her shoulders slumping.

The conversation stopped abruptly even before the dishes had time to quiet down, the rattling of china filling the silence.

Peeta could feel the bile rise up through his throat, the meal he had forced down was threatening to reappear, it wasn't until he felt hand upon his that he had the courage to look up from his lap, and into the eyes that were focused on him.

Her eyes held the same softness from before but this time, a small reassuring smile graced her lips, Peeta smiled back before looking to their joined hands on his knee.

Katniss gave his fingers a tight squeeze before drawing her hand back to rest at her lap.

The rest of the meal is spent in silence, with only the occasional hiccup or question from Posy, not even Gale utters a word, not even under his breath.

Even with the unsettling tension threatening to suffocate him, Peeta can still feel a phantom touch lingering at around his fingers and on top of his hand.

She occasionally shifts in her seat, which only encourages his hopes to rise and then bottom out when her hands stay placed at the table.

Peeta dares a glance in her direction which is usually met by Gale's glare, his face drained of most color like his knuckles from holding onto the edge of the table too tight.

He continues to watch Katniss even after Peeta adverted his eyes, which led him to assume that Gale is all too aware of Katniss' kind act.

And it's then that Peeta realizes that Gale may have been right, that even the smallest gesture of kindness towards him can be damming.

But even so Peeta can't stop himself from wondering what it would be like to be touched by her in more than just a casual way.

In a way that makes him forget exactly how damaged he is, in a way that gives him hope.

* * *

_A/N:Thank you to everyone you took the time out to read this, even though I'm sure all of the interest is long gone. I'm hoping to have another update soon. **Please Review!**_


	3. Chapter 3

_You all have no idea how much it meant to me to have so many of you review and state you still held an interest in this story! Thank you to everyone who takes the time out to review and encourage me._

_Most importantly, I want to thank my Beta Court81981 for wading through page upon page of grammatical errors. She's quite gifted and she offers her help to many authors, so please take the time to read one of her incredible works. Because she deserves all the credit for making me seem like I know what I'm doing._

_I also want to give a shout out to streetlightlove who has taken over my valuable free time with her fantastic Historical AU, **'If This Be Treason, Make the Most Of It'**. You life ruiner!_

Chapter Three

The unnerving silence had reverted back to the commotion from before, instilling at least a sliver of normalcy back into the situation. After the outburst, there had been a few casual exchanges about the weather and whether Primrose enjoyed assisting her mother in the affairs of a healer. It was all very clinical and shallow, and it was a small comfort to Peeta that for at least a moment, the topic of conversation wasn't about his presence. Experience had taught him that being invisible was an advantage when it came to survival, and he felt more relieved than ignored when most of the eyes in the room never sought out his. Although he didn't miss the way Gale's eyes would cut towards him, his expression held resentment that caused Peeta to shift in the rickety wooden chair. The back leg- shorter than the rest he assumed from use over the years- scratched at the worn slats forming the floor of the large room. The scratching echoed over the sounds of the den: silverware clattering on porcelain plates, high pitch squeals coming from Posy's mouth as Prim tickled at her sides, and a collection of conversations. However even with the added noise, Peeta could hear the way her breathing would increase when his fingers would slide against hers, at times by accident but more often than not the action done on purpose on his part. The simple warmth Katniss held at the side of her hand sent shivers up the side of his body, and he couldn't help but become greedy for the need, even with the looming possibility of having Gale discover his actions. He could feel her pull back slightly before the pad of his thumb gently traced the structure of bone, the skin callous and chapped, unlike most girls' hands he had the opportunity to hold.

After a time, Peeta could feel himself become brazen, allowing his fingers to curve over hers, hesitating at first before she ever so slightly opened her clenched fist, giving him an innocent access. His pulse began to race, his fingers wrapping at the tips of hers where the nails ended. The pads of his fingers brushed against the jagged ends; he assumed her calluses were from years of hard work, which only made her that more fascinating. Both stared forward, not giving away the movements that unfolded underneath the table. Peeta kept his back rigid, willing his breathing to keep steady. He began to slid his hand down into her palm when Vick's chair collided with the floor, the sound echoing through the room, Katniss pulled her hand back forcefully ,causing Peeta's to knock against the underside of the table before drawing it back into his lap alongside his other hand. He allowed himself to glance over to her to gauge her reaction. A slight blush formed at Katniss' cheek, the rosy color mingling with the rich olive complexion of her skin. He could feel himself begin to smile before his eyes found Gale's piercing glare, searching his face for any intentions, and it was then that Peeta can safely assume that Gale was all too aware of their once- joined hands.

Katniss soon pushes her chair out, as everyone departs from the table, clearing the dishes, and settling down for the last half of the evening before the inevitable biddings are stated. Peeta misses her presence as soon as she stands up, and he can't help but watch her retreating form. Gale stands up from his own place, clearly upset, before following Katniss to the other side of the room where she joins her mother and Hazelle with the stack of dishes that cover the counter beside the makeshift sink. Peeta is left at the table alone to watch the usual interactions of the people around him, the two older women swapping stories of the antics of their respective children during the prior week, Posy runs about with Vick close behind as he tries to tear his wooden car from her grasp, Prim deep in a speech of herbs and their healing capabilities as Rory watches her lips closely thinking of something other than the duties of a healer, and finally Gale keeping a close proximity to Katniss as she slaps him at the shoulder for saying something crude before she lowers her face a shy smile forming at her lips. Peeta can't keep himself from feeling like an intruder, an unwelcomed witness to their bond, and it's then that he feels an empty feeling at his chest, a swell of nausea swelling up towards the base of his throat. It's unnoticed when he takes his leave.

The humid air hits him as the door closes behind him, the sticky moisture wrapping itself around his body causing him to already begin to perspire. The fabric of his button-up shirt clings to the shape of his broad back and chest and he can't help the hiss that departs from his lips when the salty sweat seeps into the fresh cuts at his back. He can feel the sloppy stitching unravel and he moans at the thought of the inevitable bloodstain. It had been painful when one of the house mothers had pushed the needle through his skin closing up the deep gash that had opened at his back, a product from his fight minutes prior. He had gritted his teeth when she had spat at him about the possibility for him to receive a pain killer was non-existent, a quick jab about orphans spilled from her thin lips as his broken body sprawled over the edge of the cot.

Peeta quickly pushes the fresh memories of the orphanage from the forefront of his mind as he carefully sits at the stoop of the front porch; his knees ache slightly from the shallow cuts at the back of his legs, the material of his slacks unrelenting. His fingers drum down the edge of the withered stone before he feels the end of a stray stick, bringing it up to his lap. The pale yellow light from the overhead lamp at the side of the Hawthorne's home does little to aide his vision against the thick dark blanket of night, but the full moon above yields enough visibility to see the patch of dirt beside him. The end of the stick buries into the soil easily as Peeta twists and swirls it about, recreating the shape of the moon above him. Many people told him over the years how childish it was to draw in the dirt but it never failed to calm him down and he marveled at how something so simple could give him clarity.

He was preoccupied in his task when the door opened with a loud creak, startling him before it bathed him in the light from inside of the dwelling. The sound flooded out over the threshold, filling him with the familiar pang of loneliness once again. His mind began to wander before the air shifted around him, the presence of someone else apparent. Peeta dropped the stick to the ground, twisting to look behind him, causing the muscles at his back and waist to scream out in pain. Peeta hoped he could hide the grimace from revealing on his features, but the look he saw on the woman's face gave away his condition.

Blonde strands reflected the shine of the moon around Mrs. Everdeen's face as she looked down at Peeta, standing over him with Prim at her side, the same expression of concern evident on the young girl's face. He could feel her eyes on him before he leaned to the side, his right arm bracing his weight and the brunt of his pain. Her eyes glowed in the dim light and Peeta had to stop himself from staring at her, a lump forming at the base of his throat that only constricted the more he tried to swallow in vain. He can't find the strength to break the connection, but the sudden closing of the door and the lack of light again causes his vision to blur slightly. He's reminded that they're not alone when Mrs. Everdeen's voice breaks the rhythmic melody of chirping and whistling wind in the humid summer night.

"Peeta, it was a pleasure to spend time with you." He gives a polite nod in agreement as he notices her eyes traveling to his back where he can now feel the sticky pool of blood from his cut soaking into the back of his shirt." Would you mind greatly if you escorted my daughters and me to our home. With it being so late and the light being scarce, I worry what could happen to three defenseless women."

Before he has time to respond, an indignant snort comes from Mrs. Everdeen's side with a quick response, "Hardly."

Peeta can hear Prim giggle softly while Mrs. Everdeen ignores her oldest child's retort, "I don't think I should leave without Hazelle knowing about my absence."

Mrs. Everdeen waves her hand in the air dismissively, "I already informed her, she saw no fault in it."

Peeta reached to the back of his neck, massaging at the knotted muscles there, "Well I-"

Mrs. Everdeen clicked her tongue, "Now Peeta, what kind of gentleman would you be if you made three women walk in the dark on their own?"

Peeta's lips formed a shy smile, "Not much of one I expect."

Mrs. Everdeen nodded dramatically before reaching down to Peeta's arm to grasp it gently, "That's right." He pushed himself off from the stoop the rest of way, his eyes finding Katniss' as she kept her place beside her mother. Mrs. Everdeen released his arm." Now let's get going."

Mrs. Everdeen walked in front of him, bringing Prim with her, who shot Peeta a quick glance over her shoulder as they began to reach the outskirts of where the lamp's light reached. He stood there watching in almost a dazed, the exhaustion of standing up far too quick mounted to the pain in his body. The painful ache at his temple threatened to throb once more when he heard her clear her throat beside him; he had forgotten she had still been standing there.

Katniss waved him forward with a flourish of her wrist. "You better listen to her or she'll continue to berate you. It's usually easier to just play along."

Peeta ran his hands through his hair, his palms slick with sweat from either the humidity or her proximity, he wasn't sure, "Your objection to me walking you home isn't lost on me."

She shrugged, causing her dark braid to fall down her back, which only increases his urge to read out and tickle the ends of the strands with his fingers. "It's not that, I just hate when she plays the coy manipulation to get others to do what she wants. She's harmless enough, but my mother and I disagree on a lot of things."

Peeta looked up into her eyes for the first time since they'd being alone, "I know what you mean."

Katniss raised a brow, "Really?"

Peeta nodded, letting out his own snort, "Yes. I may be a bastard, but I did have a mother, _once_."

Katniss began to shake her head, and Peeta could swear she appeared frazzled, "I didn't mean-"

He couldn't resist but feel at least a bit pleased at seeing her stammer, "It's alright."

A cool breeze traveled through the space between, which caused Katniss to shiver underneath its weight and Peeta had to will himself not to reach out to her. The silence between them charged, as Peeta contemplated assuring her that her statement hadn't offended him in the least when Mrs. Everdeen's voice travels from the darkness, beckoning them forward. Katniss is the first to step off, barely brushing the bare skin of Peeta's arm, exciting the nerves there, as he watches her jump off of the stoop.

Katniss stops at the end, turning back towards him, "Well come on then. What are you waiting for? _Another invitation_?"

Peeta shook his head clearing it momentarily before carefully stepping down the stairs, the open gash in his back sending barbs of pain up and down his spine. A faint wave of nausea formed at the pit of his stomach, the muscles there tightening, and his cheeks flushed at the thought of her seeing him do something as vile as vomit.

When he had made it past the stairs, Katniss turned on her heel ,expecting him to follow into the dark surroundings. He could hear the conversation going on between her mother and sister ahead of them, but Katniss kept quiet, the only sound she gave off was her light tread and even then Peeta had to strain to hear any movement from her. She fascinated him; most girls prattled on about vain things such as boys and hair ribbons, even the ones in the orphanage spent most of their time preening in front of the mirror, but Katniss had been unkempt when he had encountered her behind her family's home earlier in the day. He couldn't get the picture out of his mind of how the light fabric clung to her skin, the perspiration there fixing the top to her chest. Peeta allowed his mind to wander, fixating on the curve of her collar bone, dark strands of hair brushing against her narrow shoulders, that he yearned to touch, an overpowering need to tangle his fingers into the tresses was nearly impossible to resist.

The force of running into something stopped him, abruptly brining reality back into view. It took him a few seconds to concentrate before his sight settled on the area between her shoulder blades. He assumed he must have ran into her when she had stopped all of a sudden, and his mind was elsewhere imagining the sensations of her touches. When she turns around to face him, Peeta is positive that his face is flushed along with another part of his body giving his thoughts away. He merely stares down at her as she narrows her eyes, stepping back from him to allow enough space between their bodies.

"I was checking to see if you were still behind me before you ran into me," Peeta watched the way her lips moved underneath the glow of light while occasionally her tongue would dart out to wet the chapped skin. "Are you alright?"

Peeta shook his head, "Uh, why wouldn't I be?"

Katniss moved her head to the side, the lines between her brows deepening. "I don't know, but you're starting to creep me out a little."

Peeta stood there, dumbfounded and partly ashamed of the thoughts that had confused him just moments ago as she turned back around waving him forward. He fought against hanging his head as he followed her down the worn dirt path that had been no doubt man-made among the makeshift homes of the Seam. There were sections where the light couldn't reach, and Peeta found himself again looking forward to the times when her form would become bathed in the yellow hue, the crown of her dark hair glowing.

He watched as Katniss took a sharp right onto a creaking porch, a warm light bathing the steps and darkness just below, coming from the already opened door. She jogged into the entrance leaving him to watch the space she had been occupying , until he saw her lean against the door frame.

"Are you coming?"

Peeta breathed in deeply running his hands over his sweaty face before answering, "Uh, yes."

"So what are waiting for another-"

Peeta threw his hands up into the air, "Yeah, I know _another invitation_."

Katniss watched him corner the stairs and walk up slowly to the where she still leaned onto the doorway. "You already used that one remember."

A slight smile played at her lips as she turned to watch him enter; he surprised her more than she would have liked, which only made her that much more curious about him. Which in turn made her furious with herself for becoming fascinated with someone whom she had no business thinking about. Gale had made his feelings about this one boy perfectly clear, and if Katniss were the loyal friend she claimed to be, she would keep Peeta at arm's length. But she couldn't disagree that there was something about the way that he held her hand that sent a warm sensation up her arm to travel down the rest of her body.

Peeta could hear her pull the door closed as she stepped into the house fully, the wooden boards sounding loudly beneath her petite weight. He felt the warmth of her body before her arm grazed his, much like it had outside the Hawthornes', and he marveled in feel of her beside him, if only for a few seconds.

He watched as she walked across the room towards where her mother and sister conversed, their discussion quiet and steady as they rummaged through what appeared to Peeta as an array of herbs and plants that covered the far wall.

He scanned the room, taking in the layout that was similar to that of the Hawthornes' with a singular large room used as a den and dining area alike and an upstairs loft that was most likely used as a large bedroom. The only difference was that the Everdeens lacked the steady, wooden stairs that connection the first and second floor that he had seen at Gale's home. Meager furniture filled the first floor, along with an array of photographs and knickknacks, which sat upon the mantle above the large stone fireplace. One of the photographs caught his attention, he concluded that it was of a man whose eyes mirrored that of the same grey he had all of a sudden become accustomed to. It was not farfetched to assume that this man had been Katniss' father and the apparent absence could only mean two things, that he had abandoned his family; or that he had passed away and in any case both were possibilities he wasn't particularly fond of discussing with her.

His attention is still on the photograph, when he's gently pulled backwards and made to sit on a wooden stool that seems far too small for his size. He settles his feet onto the rungs, his knees pushed well up to his waist, and he can't help but feel foolish. There's an intimidation that floods inside him as all three women circle the stool; Prim's hands cover a small container of something that he can't quite recognize as a mint smell burns his nostrils.

Mrs. Everdeen pulls at the sleeve of his shirt, gaining his attention. "Let's see about those cuts dear." She walks over to wooden table where the herbs reside, searching for something amongst the mess as she calls over her shoulder," Katniss, help the boy out of that shirt. We need to inspect the source of that bleeding."

Peeta can already feel his cheek burn as he risks a glance to his left where she stands; she too has become flushed, and he tries to search her face for any indication why. The optimistic part of him wants to believe that he has an effect on her, and the excitement that rises up through him is intoxicating. But the realistic side of him assumes she's merely inexperienced and naive when it comes to the opposite sex.

He watches her hands come to the buttons at his chest, her fingers hesitant and he can feel the slight quiver of her hands when they reach the button closest to his bare skin. Her eyes are downcast, and he wonders if she can feel his heart race as he places his hand on hers before pushing it away gently.

Peeta's lips form a slight smirk that pulls at the ends. "I can do it, Katniss. I have been dressing myself for nearly a year now."

She narrows her eyes, her hand traveling to her hip. "Oh, so we have jokes now?"

Peeta lowers his head as he undoes the buttons at the front of his shirt. "Sometimes."

Prim still stands quietly at the side, watching the exchange, and she clears her throat to gain his attention. "This is something my mother and I made to help with abrasions and bruising," Peeta nods in acknowledgement as he undoes the last button before sliding the soiled shirt off of his broad shoulders. "It should help with any discomfort you've been feeling."

Peeta is aware not to pull the shirt off too quickly; his body is already in much pain. "Alright."

The shirt is halfway down his back before he feels it pull slightly, the fabric stuck to his newly opened stitches where the blood has already dried. A deep groan escapes his lips as the pain intensifies, sending another wave of nausea through his body. He's contemplating his ability to hold down his vomit in front of Katniss when he feels warm fingers trailing down his spine to where the fabric clings to his skin. Her touch is barely there, only a whisper, but he can feel his body betray him as his skin reacts to her touch, pimpling up in the wake of her fingers. Her braid brushes up against his bare chest as she leans over him to inspect the area. She smells of soap and cedar, and he has to stop himself from inhaling her scent.

It's not long until she's able to pull the fabric free, standing up and he can already feel her absence as she widens the space between them. He can hear his shirt fall to the floor where she discards it, and he feels insecure sitting amongst women he's barely met, half naked.

Mrs. Everdeen takes her place beside Prim, pushing Katniss to the outskirts and he's thankful for her intrusion, knowing it was only a matter of time before he wasn't able to push his urges down any longer, and with it, signs of his arousal. Prim makes short work of cleaning his shallow cuts with the cloth a damp cloth and applying the salve she had concocted. Mrs. Everdeen watches him closely as she examines every mark on his battered body before allowing Prim to work, her hands touching and inspecting for infection.

He can hear her voice become soft when she touches his cheek gingerly, studying the bruises there, "Oh my, I don't think I've ever seen someone so young with so many scars on their body."

Peeta dropped his shoulders involuntarily, his shame washing over him. "I guess."

Katniss kept her place behind her mother, but never wavered in watching him intently. She had to hide the emotion from her face when his battered body came into full view; she knew more than anyone that pity was usually an unwanted emotion that did nothing but belittle the victim. She could still see the pity in the eyes of the town's people, especially the merchants, who came to give their condolences after her father died. Their superiority was evident, and even at twelve, she resented them for it. So it wasn't something she wanted someone else to become afflicted with, especially not a boy who seemed genuinely kind, if not a bit facetious, like the boy hunched over in front of her.

Her mother kept asking asinine questions that only continued to infuriate Katniss while Prim did her best applying the home remedy. They had yet to tend to the gash at his back, and by the way his face had lost color, she assumed he was in a great deal of pain. Her mother soon after made her way back over to the table to fetch another salve that she discovered would help to deaden the pain. Katniss refrained from accusing her of intentionally making him wait, until she could look him over fully but she knew it would be pointless to argue with her mother, who had spent most of her life healing and dabbling whereas Katniss was lucky enough not to vomit at the sight of blood.

It was true she was a hunter, but to field dress a dead animal was entirely different from repairing a broken body while the victim spat and sputtered in pain. Because for Katniss, it is more of the emotion tied to the pain than the actual sight of blood.

The frenzied knock coming from the door startled everyone in the room. Prim had to stop herself from dropping the tin of salve onto Peeta, and it broke Katniss from her reverie, echoing through the first floor. Mrs. Everdeen ,always the professional, set down the pain reliever she had intended to use for Peeta, and walked over to the door, opening it to allow the humid air to fill the house. Katniss took this time to walk over to him until their bodies were barely touching, and he could hear her without anyone hearing, especially her mother. Peeta sensed her closeness, his face lifting up towards hers until they were inches apart.

"My mother seems to think that just because she's the district's healer, it gives her the right to intrude in people's business."

Peeta was taken aback by the slight concern and tenderness she held in her eyes, since until then she had been guarded when he had looked at her. He's then reminded by her soft touches underneath the table earlier on in the evening and how even the simplest caress had made him content.

The approaching footsteps of Mrs. Everdeen cause Katniss to lean back, once again allowing space between them.

She turns towards Prim, who is applying salve onto one of Peeta's many abraisions. "Prim, that was Mr. Thurgood. His wife's gone into labor, and seeing how difficult her last three labors have been, I'll need your help."

Prim nodded before setting down the salve on the stool that had been moved beside Peeta. "Alright, but what about Peeta? I haven't finished treating him."

Mrs. Everdeen collected her things quickly as Mr. Thurgood waited by the opened door. "I'm sure Katniss can finish up for you."

Katniss turns around to face her mother. "I can? Do you not remember the last time you forced me to help?"

Mrs. Everdeen nods slowly as she inspects her instruments before wrapping them in a clean cloth and then the small carpet bag. "Yes, I do."

"And what happened?"

Her mother furrowed her brow, feigning confusion, "I don't exactly remember the details."

Katniss threw her hands up. "I vomited, Mother, literally vomited into the poor man's body."

Her waved her hand in the air dismissively. "Oh Katniss, that man had been badly burned; his injuries were much more extensive. All you need to do is clean and re-stitch his wound…that's all."

Katniss narrowed her eyes. "Well thank you, Mother, for making it sound so effortless."

Her mother turned back around towards her, a smile on her lips. "It is dear." She walked past Katniss while beckoning Prim forward." Come, Primrose, we have a great deal of work to do tonight."

Katniss watched the door close behind her mother and sister. With their absence, the awkward mood in the room heightened. She turned back to Peeta, who remained on the stool, the top half of his body bare and covered in the salve. She couldn't stop her eyes from roaming his broad shoulders and down to his chest, which was firm and much more defined than what she was used to seeing from the boys in the district, especially those from the Seam, who were lean from meager meals and genetics. Her eyes traveled lower until the waistband of his slacks impeded her view.

The slight cough from his throat caused his chest to vibrate, which startled and both excited her. "What?"

Peeta gave her a warm smile, mirth playing at his mouth. "Did you really vomit on a dying man?"

Katniss scrunched up the bridge of her nose. "I may have."

"Do you think it's safe to bet that you won't vomit on me?"

Katniss shrugged. "Only if you don't irritate me further. If not I may just vomit on you for pure principle."

Peeta let out a slow chuckle. "She makes jokes."

Katniss shrugged, walking over to his side where Prim had laid out all of the supplies before leaving. "Not usually," she said, peering up at him through her dark lashes," perhaps you just have that effect on me?"

"You should be careful who you confess that around. I don't have that many admirers around here, my least fan being Gale."

"You shouldn't take it personally."

Peeta winced as she ran the cool cloth over the gash. "How else am I to take it?"

Katniss leaned her head to the side as she washed his fair olive skin clean. "Gale's just protective over those he cares about. It happens when you have to take care of your entire family before you're fourteen. Besides it can't be easy on him to have you around. Since there are times you look more like Kale Hawthorne than he does."

Peeta inhaled deeply. "Really?"

"Yes."

"You think it would have bothered Hazelle more, than Gale. I'm still shocked she sought me out and brought me here."

"I think she's just had more time to work through what happened. And If I know Hazelle as well as I'd like to think, I'm positive she doesn't blame you for any of it. We don't get to choose our parents."

Peeta lowered his eyes to his hands; that sat at his lap. "No we don't. Do we?"

Katniss kept silent as she ran her fingers around the deep gash before reaching for the small shears to cut the thin thread out from around the area. "I've seen better medical treatment towards animals."

Peeta shrugged, in between the rushes of pain coming from his back. "Most believe orphans are only a step above."

Katniss pulled the threading free, dropping it to the stool beside her, then she reached for a clean cloth, wrapping it around her pointer finger before dipping it into the pain reliever. "You shouldn't care what others think."

Peeta arched his back away from her when she made contact with the source of his pain, "Speaking of, I'm sorry you had to witness any of that tonight."

Katniss shrugged as she threaded the needle. "I've grown accustomed to Gale's outbursts and rants; he gives at least three a week."

"Even so, it didn't make it any less embarrassing."

Katniss watched him move underneath her fingertips before she pushed the needle through his skin, and the popping sound made her groan. "Eh, I hate that sound."

Peeta glanced over his shoulder. "You're not going to vomit on me are you?"

Katniss narrowed her eyes as she kept her hand still. "Do you enjoy teasing me?"

A slight smile played at his lips. "Seeing that you have a sharp object pressing into my back, my answer is no."

Katniss stuck her tongue out at him, which caused a low chuckle to escape from his full lips. Lifting her free hand she pressed it into his hair. Peeta's eyes fell closed, marveling in the feel of her fingers tangling into his hair as she turned his head back around.

"You're distracting me, and I do want to finish this before I actually do become sick."

She made quick but correct work of his stitches, closing the gap and then applying a layer of medication before pressing a clean square of cloth to cover the injury. She was thankful for the numbing agent because it had been awful enough to have to tend to the deep gash, but having to see the pain manifest would have been worse. Katniss was also glad that he had his back to her, not able to stop the blush that formed at her cheeks when her fingers slid over the skin of his back. She had felt sensations run up and down her body that puzzled her;she wasn't a stranger to seeing half naked people, seeing her mother had been a healer longer than Katniss had been alive, but having his body bare before her was something entirely different.

Peeta still kept his place in front of her, his back now hunched over ,which only made the lines of his scars more defined. Katniss bent over, reaching for his discarded shirt before standing up and walking around to face him. His head was still lowered, and she couldn't tell if he had fallen asleep or not, until he slowly raised his face up to meet her eyes.

Katniss laid his shirt in his lap. "I'm done. Those should hold, but just to be sure you should come back later and have my mother or Prim check it out."

He nodded slowly."Alright."

Katniss noticed the troubled look on his face. "What is it?"

His eyes locked with hers, and she could see the unshed tears pooling at the corner of his eyes. "I'm not what everybody thinks I am, you know."

It was as if everything slowed down, and she could see herself reacting outside her body, but when the heat of his lips met with hers, time caught up with her. The feel of his mouth was surprisingly soft, and she had to suppress the moan that threatened to spill from her. He hadn't yet moved, the panic rising up through her , a product of her impulsive action. Her mind raced, through what her next move could possibly be. And she was left with sorting out her reasons for kissing him when she felt him react, and that familiar warmth began to pool in her stomach. Katniss was aware of how out of character this was for her, but this boy seemed to have an adverse effect on her and Katniss hadn't yet decided if that was detrimental or not.

* * *

_A/N: I'm wanting on the next chapter to be Beta'd, and as soon as I can I will post it. I'm also in the process of updating **'Touched'**. Please take the time out to read it, it hasn't received that much attention and I would love for more people to check it out. I'm also working on a one-shot that I've been thinking about lately._

**_PLEASE REVIEW!_**


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you to everyone who took the time out to review, follow, and favorite. I also want to specifically thank, **mansts**, for sending me a private message last weekend when the alert system failed. It means a lot to me when my readers care enough to be concerned about others missing out on updates. So, thank you! This chapter is dedicated to you, **mansts**. :)_

_Also, thanks go to my Beta __Court81981 for wading through all of my errors. You make me a better writer, which only proves how much of an amazing teacher you are! Love ya, Court!_

Chapter Four

She couldn't accurately pinpoint the moment his hands had found their way around her back, his fingertips digging in the soft fabric of her cotton dress, but she would be lying to herself if she denied that she liked the sensations that were meandering below her waist. When she had initially kissed him he had kept still, only their lips touching, their bodies in a sort of stalemate waiting for the other to react. A deep, low groan had escaped his throat before he leaned forward, intensifying the pressure of the kiss. The sound had alarmed her enough to open her eyes, which until then were firmly shut, and she had watched the way his lashes brushed against her skin like a soft whisper, his eyes lids fluttering. Katniss opened her mouth for a much needed intake of breath; as the air filled her lungs she nearly jumped when the warmth of his tongue swept over her bottom lip to probe into her own mouth ever so softly. She felt the urge to pull back, but the tentative pressure he bestowed up the tip of her own tongue with his caused her eyes to close, the heat at her chest rising into her cheeks. Katniss surprised even herself when she heard a gratified murmur escaping from her mouth.

Her back bowed as his hands traveled down to her hips to settle barely above her bottom, and she could feel his fingers trace the elastic of her panties, which caused warmth- as well as a gut wrenching fear -to settle between her thighs and stomach. She had never had such contact with anybody, and it seemed ridiculous that she had placed herself in such a situation with a boy who not only had a reputation around the district already, but one she had only known for a few short hours. There was a part of her that felt shame in her actions, allowing herself to be caught up in something as trivial as attraction. She normally prided herself in her ability to be rational, the part of her that never became like the rest of the ninnies that skipped about school giggling and fawning over boys. Although now, she felt the gnawing tickle settle down below, which forced her to resent her decision to ignore such situations as kissing. Because an entirely new side had taken hold of her, a part that reveled in his gentle but firm touches, a side that had awakened with his deep- throated groans.

Katniss lifted her hands from her side to ghost her fingers over his strong jaw line, the stubble there tickling the pads of her fingers as he sucked on the supple skin of her bottom lip. Another satisfied moan came from his mouth which only emboldened her reckless behavior, her hands sliding up to his hair line, her nails gently scratching the skin of his cheek bone. She felt him wince, a deep yelp that landed at her lips. The sound broke her from her temporary insanity, her lips parting from his as her body leapt back as if it had been burned. It took a few seconds for her sight to right itself before she watched him hold the side of his face, his fingers brushing over the deep bruise at his eye that she had accidently pressed against. Katniss' own fingers reached to her lips, trailing the line of heat his mouth had kindled there. But the sensation was fleeting and for a few seconds, she felt the longing creeping up through her until the shame won out and eventually she reacted the only way she knew how when she was afraid: she became defensive and lashed out.

"That was a mistake", her voice was firm but lacked its usual resolve.

Peeta rubbed the side of his face a smile formed at his lips but didn't come near his eyes, "That didn't take long. It takes most people at least a day to realize I'm a mistake."

Peeta watched her stand in front of him from his perch on the stool; her cotton dress was dishelved from his roaming hands, and the dark strands from her braid had escaped from the tie and now frame her face. He could still taste the mint from her tongue, and he become curious to how it had gotten there. His lips felt swollen, and he assumed that they resembled hers, which were still red and shiny from the added moisture his tongue had left there.

Katniss ran her hands through her loose hair before tucking the ends behind her ears. "I just meant that the kiss shouldn't have happened." The voice in her head screamed out in disagreement towards her words; her mind becoming muddled.

Peeta narrowed his eyes, as he studied her closely. "Wow, this really freaked you out didn't it?"

Katniss let out an exaggerated sigh, folding her hands over her chest. "It certainly did not! I was shocked that you would take something as innocent as a simple kiss to such a level." Even after the words left her mouth, she knew how false they were. But she worried, if she allowed herself to yearn for his touch she may never want to let go.

"Excuse me, but I know for certain that I wasn't the only one being less than innocent."

Katniss shifted her body to the side to shield most of her face from him, not to mention to escape the sight of his exposed chest and torso that was causing the warmth from before to pool at the space in between her thighs once again. "It was the only thing that came to mind when you looked so sad."

Peeta let out a low chuckle. "So all you could think of was to attack me?"

Katniss spun around, her eyes full of rage but when she saw the genuine smile on his face, her anger lessened slightly, "I didn't exactly think it through." She shifted her eyes to the side. "I'm not very good with people."

Peeta nodded in agreement. "Obviously." When he saw her body tense, he tried to reassure her. "Although, neither am I sometimes if I'm completely honest."

"It's just when you said, _you're not what they think you are_, I understood."

Peeta's brow furrowed, the lines at his eyes forehead defined as well as the scar above his eye. "Really?"

Katniss tipped her head to the side. "What you think people from town or even the Seam don't just assume I'm some Seam brat with no mind that has nothing better to do with her life than become knocked up before I'm twenty just to perpetuate the cycle? You're not the only one that people underestimate. Maybe your life is under the microscope more than some us, but we all have our battles to fight, Peeta."

Peeta grabbed a hold of his shirt from his lap, where it had remained during their kiss, his fingers tangling in the material as he stood up from the stool, careful not to disturb the new stitches at his back. He watched her flinch slightly at his movement before he advanced on her, his steps slow and deliberate.

"No matter the reasoning, I did enjoy kissing you, Katniss."

Katniss opened her mouth to react as he stopped short in front of her, his chest still bare and exposed for her gawking. His complexion was lighter than most who were raised in the Seam, but the fair tint of the Merchant class lightened up the usual olive hue. Peeta kept his position, silently watching her from his spot a few feet from her, his shirt dangling from his hand, the collar brushing the wooden slats of the floor.

She could feel her cheeks burn as she watched the way the muscles at his torso twitched and moved with each breath he took. It wasn't until the front door creaked opened that she diverted her eyes, turning her back to his bare skin. A deep cough alerted them to the presence of Gale who stood stone- faced at the door, his arms crossed over his chest, mimicking Katniss.

Gale looked between the two of them, Katniss's blush spreading through her face as Peeta stood motionless, his upper body still bare. The tension in the room was suffocating, and Katniss was afraid to even breathe as the two young men stared each other down before Gale broke first, his eyes landing on Katniss before turning back to Peeta.

"My mother wanted me to check up on you and make sure you were alright, but by the looks of it, I'd say you're finding your way around."

Katniss rolled her eyes. "Oh God, Gale! Don't be ridiculous. I was helping him with a wound."

Gale arched a brow. "You were helping with a wound? Didn't you vomit on the last guy?"

Katniss threw her hands up in the air, holding up her pointer finger. "One time! You throw up on a guy one time and all of a sudden no one can forget it."

Peeta tried to hold in a chuckle but failed miserably, earning a pointed glare from Katniss, and a less than friendly stare from Gale as Peeta gingerly pulled his shirt on, his arms sliding into the sleeves. The patch at his back stretched as the muscles at his back strained and moved, the dried blood at the back of the fabric scratching at his sensitive skin. He quickly refastened the first few buttons at the front before looking up to see Katniss watching him silently.

There was something about the way her grey eyes sized him up that made him feel almost content, a feeling he wasn't used to, and he didn't know to be either comforted or fearful. She already seemed to have a way of knocking him off kilter, surprising him at every turn, starting with her appearance earlier in the day to the way she had held onto his hand under the table, and most importantly, how she had kissed him. The sensations of that experience still tingled at his nerves slightly, the memory of her lips pressed up against his , wet and warm. The image caused his mind to drift to other less than honorable thoughts of her, and he had to remind himself that they weren't alone anymore, and that the one that she would more than likely end up with was standing only feet away. Gale already held an unhealthy dislike for Peeta, and that regard was in place far before Peeta had noticed Katniss.

They maintained their eye contact until Gale came into view, blocking her from him, and he suddenly felt empty without her gaze on him. Gale's considerable height difference obstructed her from Peeta's view and prevented him from seeing her reaction, and their voices were low enough that not even with only a few feet separating them could Peeta hear what they were saying. Although it wasn't long before Gale shifted to the side gathering Katniss into a hug so that Peeta could see her face again. Peeta gauged her reaction, her eyes were wide while her mouth was set in a hard, straight line, and she was clearly shocked by Gale's show of affection and by her response Peeta assumed it wasn't something that happened on a regular basis. This only led him to believe that the display was more for Peeta's benefit than anyone else's. It was a clear statement that Peeta needed very little time to decipher: Katniss was his and it was useless for Peeta to question his dominance.

Peeta had to hold back the urge to snort in laughter at the thought of Gale assuming that he had some possession over this girl because even after the little bit of time he had known her, it was apparent she didn't appreciate others presuming they had anything to do with her decisions.

Katniss was the first to break free from the hug, gently pushing Gale back, her eyes slanted to the ground, aware of Peeta's eyes on her. It confused her how easily she found herself lost in his eyes, and she didn't need any more complications at the moment, especially with how possessive Gale seemed at the moment; it was all a strange ride she wanted no part of. So when he bent down to kiss her on the cheek, her stomach lurched violently before she looked back up into Peeta's face and saw the hurt etched onto his strong features. Gale called out a quick farewell before heading to the door, which made her conclude that the entire situation was more for Peeta than Gale wanting to show affection towards her, which only confused and infuriated her further. Her temper began to rise, and before she could question his bizarre behavior, he was out of earshot.

Peeta watched Gale's retreating form, the door still wide open, allowing the thick humid air to fill the room.

"I suppose that's my cue to go," he turned to leave before stepping towards her." About before- I appreciate you wanting to help, even if it was a tad extreme. I haven't met many people who care enough to even try. So thank you."

Katniss nodded mutely, as she watched him to turn to go but not before he gave her a shy smile on his way out.

Peeta deliberately slowed his steps when reaching the threshold, wanting to stretch out the time he had in her presence, because even if it was brief, she filled him with an emotion he wasn't familiar with.

She made him hopeful.

* * *

_A/N: I'm going to begin updating once a week, that way Court doesn't have to rush with editing and hopefully it gives everyone enough time to read and review. I need those reviews guys, even if it's just to say you like what I'm writing, or you don't._

**_PLEASE REVIEW!_**


	5. Chapter 5

_I want to thank everyone who took the time out to review, it really does mean a lot to me. Keep it up! And in response to those of you who were concerned about unanswered questions, I promise all will be revealed in time. Also, thank you so much for all the favorites, and follows._

_As always thanks go to my Beta, Court81981. She really is the best.  
_

Chapter Five

The lines had begun to form even before he realized he was sketching, the stick firmly in his hand. He had drawn the sharp contours of her bone structure, as if by memory, the shape of her eyes luring him in. It confused him how much she had already gotten under his skin; for the most part he was able to figure someone out within seconds of meeting him or her, a valuable skill while living in the orphan homes, but he hadn't yet gotten a clear reading from her. He had assumed her actions earlier in the evening were to aggravate Gale, but she had kissed him without anyone present. Which led him to believe- if only for a second- that her motives were pure. It hadn't been the first time he had kissed a girl, but it was the first time he had felt utterly content doing so. Her mouth was surprisingly supple and soft, even with the bottom lip being slightly chapped from her worrying it between her teeth. He missed the way she would shift her hips into his palms as his hands rested above her bottom. He had to fight the urge to glide his fingers further down between her thighs, but he knew that it would only spook her. He was lucky enough to have her kiss him, and he didn't want to risk losing the contact. Peeta had to refrain from cursing at himself when he winced back from her accidental touch on his bruise. It was a solid reminder that he was far too damaged to participate in something as simple as a kiss with a beautiful girl.

He couldn't stop watching the way she blushed when his eyes would fall on her, and he wondered what others thing he could do that would elicit such a reaction. It wasn't until Gale had arrived, that reality came crashing around him. The nausea swelled when he watched Gale embrace her was almost more than Peeta could fight off. Her reaction to Gale's affections seemed as surprised as his was, and that was at least a little bit of hope he could hold onto.

When he had made his way to the door, he could feel his pulse race, not wanting to leave her, not wanting to lose the sight of her. After Peeta had stepped onto the front porch and she closed the door, he watched Gale walk up the path. Peeta wasn't foolish enough to believe that Gale didn't suspect that something had transpired between him and Katniss. Although there was a part of him that dreaded a confrontation, the other part wanted to make his interest in her clear, but he knew that it would only bring more trouble.

Peeta lowered his shoulders as he made his way through the Seam, before he sat down on the Hawthorne's stoop. The old stone had already cooled off from the present darkness, and he exhaled while reaching for the stick he been drawing with. He had been doodling without much thought until he looked down; the amber light of the lamp casted enough visibility for him to notice her staring back at him. He marveled at how close the sketch was to her likeness- which only troubled him because he came to the realization that he was falling for her. The opening of the door behind him startled Peeta; he extended his leg, kicking dirt over the drawing of Katniss until there was no trace of her.

He glanced over his shoulder, meeting Hazelle's warm gaze. "I was wondering where you got off to." She knelt down beside him on the stoop. "Gale got back awhile ago. I was afraid he had done away with you. Really I'm surprised he hasn't before now." She nudged his shoulder with hers, earning a light chuckle.

Peeta could feel himself relax. "So am I."

She patted his back. "It'll all settle down, soon. You'll see."

Peeta looked over to her, giving a small smile. Hazelle leaned over slightly to inspect the spot where he had been drawing in the dirt. "You must be nervous or upset."

Peeta dropped the stick to the ground, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Why do you say that?"

Hazelle lifted her hand, pointing to the sketch he had made in the dirt. "Your father…umm ,Kale would do the same thing when he was upset. It nearly drove me insane how many times I found stray pieces of paper with sketches on them laying about the house."

Peeta furrowed his brow, his eyes still on the ground before him. "He was an artist?"

Hazelle nodded as she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'd like to think so. The materials were too expensive to ever afford so he found whatever he had lying around- a piece of gravel that could be used as chalk, or a stick."

A small grin formed on his lip. "Sounds familiar."

She cleared her throat while giving him a sideways glance. "You know he grew up in the Seam, if he had been born to a Merchant, I'm positive he could have done something with it. He used to say that a true artist found their way." Hazelle released a sigh. "But when Gale was a few years old he stopped, and by then, you had come along."

Peeta ran a hand through his hair. "Did he ever say why he stopped?"

"No. And I never asked, but I wish I had. There's a lot of things that went unsaid between us."

Peeta cleared his throat of the lump that had begun to form there. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, Hazelle, but I don't belong here. I'm only in the way."

She angled her body towards his, her hands on her knees."Then where do you belong?"

He ran his hands over his face in irritation. "Just send me back. Send me back to the orphanage in nine."

Hazelle shook her head adamantly, "You weren't safe there."

Peeta felt his anxiety rise at her attempts to be comforting, and he spoke through gritted teeth."I was fine."

"By the way the district healer told the story, you could have died, and you nearly did."

Peeta threw his hands up into the air."What was I supposed to do? Let someone get hurt?"

Hazelle leaned back, taking in the back of his shirt where the bloodstain was visible. "Well it looks to me that someone did get hurt."

Peeta turned to stare at her, his eyes bright from the tears pooling underneath them. "Better me than someone who was too small to take it."

"Not everything has to be an uphill battle, Peeta. Things can be simple."

Peeta shrugged. "That really hasn't been my experience."

Hazelle punched him lightly on the air, playfully. "Well then get some new experiences."

He couldn't help but let out a low laugh. "Alright."

"You're safe here." Hazelle laid her hand flat on his shoulder. "It's what Kale would have wanted."

Peeta's body tensed at the mention of his father, the ease that had began to work through his limbs had dissipated. They both sat there in silence, listening to the sounds of the night before Hazelle gave a long sigh, pushing herself off of the porch to stand.

"Well, I should go inside and get the little ones ready for bed. I'm sure Posy has already made a mess of the entire house since I've been out here."

Peeta looked up at her, giving a faint smile. "Alright."

Hazelle placed her hand on his shoulder once again. "It will be okay, Peeta. You'll see. This can be your home."

He smiled at her weakly, but the expression was more to reassure her than anything. Hazelle squeezed his shoulder before turning around to enter the house, the commotion inside echoing around him until he was once again alone. Peeta looked down at the ground, the area smooth and free from gravel where he had swept his foot over his sketching. He felt the familiar pain of loss tugging at his heart, and he wondered for a second how he could feel such an emotion when she had never belonged to him in the first place. It was only an odd fascination he had with a girl he barely knew, a girl he was convinced was far too good for him.

The pain at his back had begun to subside, yielding to exhaustion. Peeta exhaled and stood. He turned on his heel towards the door, his hand hovering over the handle until he pushed the door open. As he stepped over the threshold he watched- the nightly ritual of the family moving about the house was in full swing. He couldn't help a small smile from gracing his lips as he watched Hazelle chase down the smaller children. Vick jumped over the tattered sofa that sat in the middle of the room as Posy crawled underneath the dining table, refusing to take the bath that her mother insisted she needed.

Peeta made sure to stay close to the walls before he reached the staircase leading up to the loft above, not wanting to interrupt their interactions. He jogged up the stairs, his footing heavy with each step. When he had reached the second floor, he noticed that most of his trunk had already been unpacked, and a fresh pair of sleeping pants and an undershirt were waiting for him at the end of the bed closest to the wall. He assumed it had been Hazelle, who seemed to want to make him feel as at home as possible.

But what she didn't realize was that Peeta never had the chance to feel content with his surroundings, other than the short time he had spent with Luka Mellark. Most of his life had been spent in a series of orphan homes, and on the occasions that his mother had allowed him to live with her, he was at the mercy of her present mate. And no man liked having a child around that wasn't his, especially one he had to clothe and feed. So, when she showed care towards him, it only made him feel emptier, that much more lost.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind in vain as he walked across the room, the boards beneath his feet squeaking. Peeta was careful to pull his shirt free from his body, the muscles at his back flexing underneath the newly placed stitches. He winced at the memory of the girl that had tended to him and not entirely because of the pain when he shifted his back to remove his clothing. When he had freed his arms from the material he tossed the soiled shirt onto the bed. The bloodstain glared back at him, and he had to fight the urge cry. Instead, he reached back gently, tracing the fingers of his right hand over the bandage. The sweat that had accumulated on his skin from the humidity had already begun to soak through, and he hoped an infection wouldn't set in. However, the thought of Katniss tending to him did enter his mind, a deep blush forming at his cheeks.

With more grace than Peeta thought he was capable of, he bent down to retrieve the undershirt from the mattress before him. He had entertained the notion of going to bed shirtless on account of the heat, but the possibility of the others seeing his scars only made him want to cover up. It was one thing for a healer to see his broken body, but he didn't want to have to endure the awkward moment when one of the Hawthornes inquired about it. Peeta hooked his fingers into the hem of the undershirt before standing up straight, as he proceeded to push his arms through. His hands were buried in the fabric when the high -pitched squeak of a floorboard rang through his ears. He froze, stopping his movements entirely until turning around, his arms extended out before him, the shirt over his hands.

Peeta swallowed, when Rory came into view, his brow furrowed. "What happened to your back? There's an awful lot of scars there."

Peeta shrugged, trying to seem casual. "It's no big deal."

Rory shook his head. "How does someone get like that?"

Peeta pulled the shirt over his head. "I don't know…hard life?"

Rory narrowed his eyes. "I know a lot people who have a hard life and they don't look like that. Heck, even Gale with all the snare lines he's had wrapped around his arms and hands doesn't look like that."

Peeta could feel the color leaving his face when he noticed someone walking up behind Rory. The younger boy was unaware of Gale's presence as he waited for Peeta's reply.

Peeta watched him jump slightly when Gale playfully thumped the side of his ear. "Stop being a nosy ass and go wash up for bed."

Rory glared at Gale muttering to himself and rubbing his ear as he turned to walk down the stairs. An uncomfortable silence settled in the room as the two young men stared at each other, neither moving. Peeta could feel his heart beat pulsating in his ears as Gale leveled him with a hard stare.

Peeta felt himself exhale slowly when Gale decided to speak, his voice clear. "I don't want you discussing your issues with the smaller kids."

Peeta clenched his jaw forcing himself to relax. "I'm sorry, but it wasn't as if I was the one to bring it up."

Gale narrowed his eyes as he advanced a few feet. "I don't give a shit who started it. I don't want my family to be pulled into your crap. At least not as much as I can control it."

Peeta matched Gale's expression, "But that's the real problem, isn't it? Why you hate me being here so much? You can't control it. I get it, you feel like it's the only way you've survived, but let me tell you it doesn't matter how tight you hold on, you can still lose it all."

Gale stomped the rest of the way until only a few inches of space separated them. "What would an orphan know about having something to hold onto?"

Peeta fisted the hem of his shirt to keep him from striking. "Let's be honest about what's really pissing you off." He watched as Gale raised a brow. "Katniss. It hasn't gotten past me that your hostility seemed to increase after she arrived."

"Katniss is a part of my world that you'll never be a part of. Period. You call full around with all the other girls in the district if you want to. I don't give a damn but keep away from her. We all know what you are."

Peeta stepped into Gale, his temper flaring. "And what is that, Gale?"

He felt the saliva leave Gale's mouth as it landed under his eye. "A mistake, plain and simple."

Peeta clenched his jaw so tight he could feel the nerve ticking. "Don't hold back, Gale." He reached up wiping the spittle from his face. "Please let me know how you really feel."

"You don't belong here."

Peeta smirked, eager to make him lash out. "Well, Hazelle must think I do. Or she wouldn't have brought me here."

"She's a soft touch. My mother believes that you're somehow a part of this family. But I don't fucking care if we have the same father because you'll never really be one of us."

Peeta could feel his nails digging into his sides as he fought the urge to pummel Gale. It was clear he was shorter, but Peeta had a sturdier build, and he was positive he could take the older boy. The air was heated as both boys breathed into the other's face, their tempers boiling. Peeta could feel something shift in the air as he prepared for the scuffle. He had become accustomed to knowing when an altercation was close, and he prepared himself for the inevitable strike from Gale.

Suddenly, Hazelle's voice traveled up the stairs, startling them, causing both boys to concede and step back. Peeta still held his fists at his side as Gale glanced behind him, giving a short reply to his mother.

He turned back towards Peeta. "You just remember your place here."

Peeta held his tongue as he watched Gale run down the stairs without giving him another glance. He waited until the other boy was no longer visible before walked over to the bed, sitting down with a sigh. His hands flew to his face as he fought through the emotional drain of coming off an adrenaline surge. The animosity that Gale held towards him was staggering so much that Peeta entertained the idea of packing up what he could carry easily and running off. It was then that the image of stormy grey eyes came to mind, and the way her hair would fall behind her shoulder when she moved, or the way her petite hands held onto him. His mind began to envision the way her body would feel underneath his, or how she would press hers flush against his. He scolded himself for entertaining such a fantasy, but it didn't stop his mind from racing, piecing a future together with her. She somehow was anchoring him here and he didn't know if he resented her for it or not.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry for the length, but I promise some will be longer than others. I'm also working on a few new stories, but I'm going to try to keep to updating this story every week. Please keep reviewing. It makes me write faster._

**_Please Review!_**


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank you to everyone that has taken the time to review, favorite and follow. _

_As always thank you to my Beta, Court81981._

_And a very special acknowledgement to my friend, muse, and all around cheerleader, Scoutchick104. She held my hand through this entire chapter, and openly accepted everyone of my crazed emails and messages. Thanks, for putting up with me and my ramblings._

_I also want to confess how special and close to my heart this story really is. Because, I believe the real battle is what comes after the abuse has ceased, when the healing needs to take place.I have personal experience with the subject matter and much of what Peeta feels about himself, I too have struggled with such feelings and doubts. And I hope that I'm doing justice for my fellow survivors. Thank you. -S_

Chapter Six

It takes only a few minutes for his vision to become clear, but his confusion is still etched onto his face, his brow furrowed as he takes in the scene before him. He's standing in the center of a room that seems vaguely familiar as he scans his surroundings. It's then that he concludes that he's inside the Hawthorne residence. The walls are less scratched than he remembers; the wood closer to the appearance it must have held when the house was newly built. A cool breeze blows against his back, bringing his attention to the open window to his left where thin curtains lift up into the space in front of the windowpane. Bright patterns of flowers, daisies he decides, cover the material, and like the walls the curtains are familiar but don't yet hold the yellowed coloring from years of use. He steps towards the window, and the reflection of the glass holds his image before his feet have halted. Squinting he takes in his appearance; everything seems to appear the exactly the same as he remembers. The strands of his dark blonde hair curl at the ends to frame the space around his brow above his blue eyes that seem if only a bit brighter.

Peeta continues to study his reflection until a thud behind him brings his attention to the movement, causing him to whirl around quickly. He has to catch himself from falling against the window when his focus rights, allowing him to take the scene in fully. Peeta takes a few steps forward, experimenting with his pace, considerate not to startle the two young boys seated at the center of the room. The youngest pounds the heels of his boots into the wood floor, protesting the words coming out the darker haired boy's mouth. The older boy seems entertained by the other boy's outburst, the corner of his mouth lifted up in a smirk. When it seems that the two children are unaware of his presence, Peeta kneels down beside the blonde boy, his face is flushed, a pinched expression on his face, causing his blue eyes to narrow. He leans in closer to inspect a light scar located at the boy's cheek, Peeta's right hand goes directly above his own cheek ghosting over a similar scar of his own.

He leans back watching the boy closely; his lips are still puckered to go with his sour mood as his arms wrap around his chubby stomach. Peeta runs his hand over his toned torso, thankful for the time when he had began puberty and most of his baby fat had disappeared. He could remember every look of disgust that his mother had given him when regarding his husky build, the curses sharp and unrelenting. Finally when his body began to slender, and fat melded into muscle he assumed that he would earn his mother's respect and love. However, any change in his appearance didn't change her ill will towards him or the schedule of daily beatings she would force upon him. Peeta shook his head, trying to rid his mind of haunting memories, forcing himself to concentrate on the child in front of him. _It's me_.

His younger self hugged his sides tightly as his voice came out strained. "She's not gross."

The darker haired boy sat across from him, the smirk from before still gracing his lips. "She's a girl, ain't she?" Peeta followed the boy's voice, studying his sharp features and the way his dark bangs fell into his eyes. He almost let out a low laugh when the realization occurred to him. _Gale? _Peeta thought he almost looked bearable as a child, but it wasn't long until the younger version of Gale's attitude towards his brother began to irritate him, causing him to compare the boy with the grown man he knew. He could understand that some of Gale's resentment had come from pain but it was also clear that some of it came naturally.

Peeta looks back over to his left to see his younger self shrug. "Yeah, but she's the good kind."

Younger Gale narrowed his eyes at the boy in front of him, his shoulders pushed back to display some masculine superiority. Peeta attempts not to roll his eyes at the action, it being so familiar to him already. "I'm older so I'm smarter than you."

The blonde boy shook his head slowly, as if he was mulling the other boy's opinion over before disagreeing. "I don't know," he said slowly and almost methodically. "You're not smart if you think she's not pretty." Peeta can't stop the smile that forms at his lips.

It was Gale's turn to roll his eyes before exhaling a long breath, indicating his irritation in attempting to reason with the younger boy. "She pushed you in the mud and you cried."

Peeta watches his younger self as little Peeta scratched the side of his head, turning the actions of the girl in his mind over. It wasn't long until his eyes appeared to brighten along with a smile. "She only did it because she likes me."

Gale waved him off as he pulled at the thread located at the hem of his worn slacks. "That's stupid."

Peeta glares at the older boy before shifting his attention back to the quiet boy beside him. He leans in so that he's face to face with the blonde child as though he has knowledge of his presence. "Hey buddy, don't let him push you around. He may seem all right now before he learns how to grow a beard, but he eventually becomes an asshole."

Peeta watches as the boy's entire demeanor shifts; his shoulders slumped as his head fell towards his lap. "I know. My mommy tells me I'm dumb a lot." Tears began to well up in Peeta's eyes as he watched the boy's spirit break.

He was so caught up in watching the boy that he missed the exact moment that young Gale stood up from his place across the room to sit beside the younger boy. He placed a hand on his shoulder before patting it softly. "You can have my mommy."

Gale sighed as he shrugged. "I guess Catnip is the good kind of girl."

Peeta watches the boy roll his eyes, a sigh of frustration leaving his lips. "Her name is Katniss."

Gale shook his head. "Nuh uh she told me it was Catnip."

The blonde boy contemplated this for a few seconds until he conceded. "She does have nice eyes like a pretty kitten."

Gale giggled. "You love a girl!" Peeta watched his younger self blush, the tone apparent on his fair skin.

He kept his place beside the boys watching their interaction, which seemed to be comfortable even with their disagreement. It was an exact contrast to his current relationship with the Gale he was accustomed to. _What had changed so disastrously that they could barely tolerate each other now? _This puzzled him, causing his mind to wander until a blur of dark hair and red material skittered past him to land directly in front of him. Peeta nearly fell back onto his bottom when he took in the scene with undivided attention. His eyes fell on the dark, thick strands woven into a plait down the little girl's back to land against the rich color of her red, plaid dress. She sat down with a resounding thud that shook the surface around them before reaching out to push the blonde boy back lightly.

"You left before we finished playing." She stuck her tongue out, her nose wrinkling ,which only made the freckles on her nose more prominent. "It's not nice to leave a girl. My daddy said that girls are more better than boys and that's why he wishes that the baby in my momma's belly is a girl. Because we are specialer"

Peeta felt the air leave his lungs as the realization hit him head on. _Katniss? _He angled his body for a clear view of her face. The sharp features of her cheekbones were covered by round cheeks that she hadn't yet grown out of; her face was fuller than it was now. However her eyes already held the defiance that he already associated with Katniss.

Gale leaned forward pushing at her side. "Specialer ain't a word and if it was, girls would not be specialer than boys."

Katniss turned to the side, her eyes narrowed in a glare as she punched his shoulder. "What would you know, smelly Galey Hawthorne?"

"More than you ,Catnip Evermean!"

Peeta began to argue before the blonde boy spoke up, his hands at his hips. "That's not her name!"

Gale rolled his eyes. "You're just saying that because you want to marry her and have babies."

Katniss scrunched up her face before sticking her tongue out in disgust. "Yuck! I'm never having babies because I'm never going to kiss a boy. EVER!"

Gale shoved the younger boy playfully. "He wants to kiss you."

Peeta watched the boy flush once again in the little girl's presence as she studied the blonde closely before answering. "He's different."

Gale eyed her suspiciously. "Why?"

Katniss shrugged. "Because boys are mean and he's nice. Aren't you, Peter?"

Before Peeta could question the name that she had used, Katniss leaned forward, pushing the blonde boy down before hopping up and screaming for him to chase her. Gale kept in place muttering about silly little kids as the other two ran around the first floor. Peeta stood up, walking towards where Katniss and his younger self played an unmatched game of tag. Her agility was impressive for a seven- year- old as she jumped over the furniture giggling. Younger Peeta ran after her but ended up falling to the floor, laughing more often than not. Peeta couldn't help but smile- he had forgotten how carefree he had been.

Katniss had snuck up behind Peeta, her hands reaching out to his sides to tickle him. They both fell to the floor in a pile laughing. Peeta backed up, watching the two play as a hollow feeling came over him. It was difficult to watch their interaction because even if this was a hallucination or a dream his mind had created, he longed to feel that content with someone. Even though after Katniss had kissed him he had felt content, he later discovered that the feeling was fleeting. Peeta's thoughts were interrupted when voices behind him drew his attention away from the giggling children rolling on the floor.

Peeta turned behind him where an open door led to a room; the door was slightly ajar, allowing him enough access. Like before with the children in the living room, he appeared to be unnoticed by the dark haired man and a pregnant woman, discussing something in what appeared to be a scarcely stocked pantry.

The man seemed familiar to Peeta as he ran his hands through his hair, visibly agitated. "What am I supposed to do, Hazelle? Just let her take Peter? I'm lucky if I'm able to see him more than twice a year. And if it wasn't for Luka Mellark, I doubt she would bring him when she comes to visit her parents."

The woman- who Peeta recognized as a very pregnant Hazelle- exhaled slowly. "Kale, I'm not trying to tell you to give up on having a relationship with your son. I'm just afraid of what she'll do when she feels threatened, and filing paternal paperwork at the Justice Building will do just that."

Peeta rounded the couple until he was beside the man, studying him slowly. He would run his hands through his hair, a nervous habit Peeta recognized in himself. _Dad?_

Kale threw his hands into the air exasperatedly. "Everyone in the entire district knows I'm his father. Hell, the old bags at the Hob love to gossip about it even now. And Peter is nearly seven."

Hazelle stepped into him to lay her hands at his shoulders. "Yes, as an open secret. It is entirely different to make it official."

Peeta looked around the room; something about the entire scenario was familiar. _Is this a memory? _He all of a sudden felt ill, an overpowering nausea coming over him. The opening of the door startled him as he watched the younger version of himself rush towards Kale.

The little boy tugged on Kale's sleeve, waiting until the man's attention was on him fully before he spoke. "My name isn't Peter anymore."

Kale shared a look with his wife before kneeling down so that he was at the boy's eye level. "Then what is it, son?"

The boy gave a wide smile before answering, "Gale says it's Peeta."

Hazelle reached out, running her fingers through the boy's hair, attempting to gain his attention. "Honey, that's only because Gale has trouble saying his 'R's."

The boy turned to lock eyes with Hazelle, his brow furrowed. "But I like Peeta."

Kale placed his hands around the boy's forearms, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "Then that is what your name will be."

Peeta watched the boy smile wide as he wrapped his arms around the older man. "Can we draw again before my mommy and daddy come to get me?"

He watched as Kale returned the hug and tears began to well up in his eyes, threatening to fall before speaking. His voice came out broken as he attempted to push his emotions away. "Yeah, of course. There's nothing I want to do more."

Peeta could feel the earlier nausea rise as he watched his father hold him as a child. His body began to tremble before everything began to fade all he was left with was darkness.

He awoke as his entire body was soaked in sweat; his pulse hadn't slowed down as the emotions of the dream flooded through him. Peeta squeezed his eyes shut, willing his breathing to settle, the air thick in the humid room as snoring from the bed across the room filled the space. Peeta shifted his body, rocking the mattress slightly, earning a small groan from Vick who he was now sharing a bed with. He had become accustomed to not having a private bed since the orphan homes were more always over crowded. Although it was entirely different sharing a room with his brothers, he had finally found a family, a place where he could belong but he couldn't shake the feeling that his contentment was only temporary.

Peeta sighed as he folded the quilt over to the side, allowing the air to hit his bare legs. Propping his elbows onto the mattress for leverage, he scooted his body down to the end of the bed. Peeta placed his right hand onto the wall, pulling himself into a seating position. His legs dangled above the floor until the pads of his feet landed onto the wooden boards. Quickly, he ran his hands through his hair, a nervous habit, as he inhaled slowly attempting to calm himself. A cool breeze traveled through the open window to brush against his neck causing a shiver to run down his spine. The sensation was a welcomed change compared to the feverish temperature of his skin.

It wasn't foreign for him to experience a nightmare during his first night in a new place. He had experienced it each time he had to relocate to another orphanage or on the off chance that his mother had decided to bring him into her current living situation- however those situations were short -lived and then he was once again sharing a bed in a crowded room with fifty other boys. But this dream had seemed more like a recovered memory, a part of his subconscious that he had locked away, be it from the abuse or the loneliness. No matter the reason, a part of him feared the return of any other memory because even though the sight of his father embracing him as a child had kindled some spark of hope inside of him, Peeta ventured that there had to be a reason why he had forgotten, and perhaps his disregard of his memories had been a form of survival.

However another question loomed: _what had changed other than his surroundings that could cause his memories to emerge? _Before his rational mind could formulate an answer, intense grey eyes came to the forefront of his mind, and Katniss invaded his thoughts. He cursed his traitorous psyche for allowing her to monopolize his thoughts, enabling her access to every waking thought that transpired even after such a short time of having her back into his life. It had been strange to catch glimpses of the glee she easily held as a child, a stark comparison to the serious and at times defensive young woman that had kissed him just hours earlier. He closed his eyes, willing his mind to delve deep into his psyche to recover more images of her as child, even a few flashes would suffice, fulfilling his curiosity. When it was apparent that none were possible, Peeta pushed himself up from the bed, careful not to wake Vick. He made his way across the short expanse of the loft to where the window was, an easy access to the roof outside.

Peeta kept his pace slow and deliberate, his eyes moving over to where Gale's body hung over the edge of the bed, the quilt only covering the lower half of his legs. Rory's knees were buried in the small of his back while the rest of the bedding was wrapped around the upper half of his body. Peeta was grateful that he had been made to share a bed with Vick because even though the possibility of being urinated could become reality, he was pleased that the younger boy for the most part was a sound sleeper and didn't inflict as much physical agony that Rory seemed to have already passed on to Gale. Peeta couldn't help the smile that crept up onto his lips; the thought of Gale in even the smallest bit of discomfort gave him a sense of satisfaction. But the triumph was short- lived as he considered the possibility of Gale having recollection of their interactions as children. He ran his hands through his hair once more before making his way to the wall and climbing out on the roof; his feet landed onto the widow's walk until he pulled the rest of his body free from beneath the window. Peeta breathed in deep reveling in the definite temperature change from being freed from the stifling air within the house. He held his hands out to balance his weight as he settled down pulling his legs into his body, his knees nestled into his chest as his body relaxed into the position.

Peeta gazed out into the Seam; the glow of the moon caused every surface to shine and he marveled at the beauty of it, but that only made his mind once again think of Katniss and he had to stop himself from physically smacking himself upside the head for being foolish enough to allow her to invade his thoughts once again. Peeta shook his head as he wrapped his arms around his bare legs. He had only wore a pair of thread- bare sleeping shorts to bed because of the climate, but now with the cool breeze of outside causing his skin to bump up, he had wished he had adorned the matching bottom of his pajama button top. His legs began to shake slightly from the sensation of the cold, his full attention on not slipping down the roof until the snoring and movement from inside the room caused him to peer into the house. Gale must have turned over onto his other side, because Peeta watched as he settled back into a resting position, not waking up once. Peeta's attention was brought to the nightstand sitting beside Gale where the moonlight bounced off of a framed picture. He had glanced at it shortly before to recognize it as one of Kale when he had been younger, the image matched that of the man in his dream. Peeta could see the resemblance that only incited a mixture of sadness and rage. He needed to get away; there wasn't any hope that he would fall back to sleep within the room and he didn't want to chance the possibility of his nodding off on the roof, which would definitely ensure a head- first plunge onto the ground below.

With a deep breath, Peeta scooted down to the edge where the drainpipe was located, sent up a silent prayer up into the sky and turned his body around the shimmy down onto the ground. His bare feet helped as he used his toes to curl into the slats of the house, regulating his pace, as the pipe groaned against his weight. The possibility that entering the house again when he had still been on the roof to take the stairs may have been a better idea came to mind, but he had already made it half way down and he hoped his impulsivity hadn't damned him. Peeta had reminded himself that he had done the same thing when living in the orphanages when he needed a quick escape, but the structures there, ironically, had been more stable. He couldn't stop the sigh of relief that escaped his lips when his feet made contact with the loose dirt, the smell of coal dust blew in the wind around him as he wiped his hands onto the sides of his sleep shirt. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't formulated a plan before he decided to scale down the house, which made him feel more foolish than he had when he was sure he was doomed to fall to his death while clinging to the rusted steel of the drain pipe.

Peeta turned around a few times before he began to walk in no particular direction; pebbles stuck into his bare feet and he had to occasionally stop to brush them away. He was positive that he would seem deranged to any onlooker as he walked through the Seam virtually undressed, so he was thankful for the darkness sans the moonlight that helped to light his way. He's halfway to the tree line that lies beyond the neighborhood when he hears a faint whimper, which causes him to halt his pace and turn to look up to the open window above him.

It isn't until he's nearly below where the cries are floating out to him that he recognizes the house, and it's then that he understands the voice to belong to Katniss. He leans into the space in front of him as he places his hands onto the slats, his weight settling into the side of the house. Peeta is aware of how odd it may be that he feels pulled towards her. But he can't shake the feeling that being there only draws them closer to each other. Her cries once again invade his senses and he can feel his pace quicken, having to stop the impulse to rush to her, and hold her close. Instead, he continues to lean into the wall, waiting until her cries subside because even though it seems odd to even him, he can't leave her when she's in pain. Not when all he wants to do is take the pain away.

* * *

Darkness. It's all she can sense or feel after the ground beneath, above and around her ceases to shake. The screams that had clawed out from her throat had died in the space before her and she feels small and forgotten. She had reached her arms out to her father as she watched his body implode into a blaze of fire and coal dust, her body oddly cool as the flames licked her bare skin. Katniss could feel the tremors rack up through her body as she clung to the sides of her nightgown, the material sticking to her skin as the sweat seeped through. She was alone, cursed to witness death on her own as she backed up her arms reaching out for anything to hold onto, anything to reclaim a semblance of balance, anything to feel grounded. She clawed at the solid walls that only seemed to disintegrate when she attempted to hold on. A chill traveled up her back as she fought the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. She nearly cried out when she felt a strong hand land at her shoulder, the contact frightening her in such a desolate place. Katniss turned around sharply assuming to be met with more darkness or the beings that lay dormant in light but reveled in despair. However when her eyes met the startling blue that seemed to span oceans, she couldn't hold back a sigh of relief. And as though the veil had been lifted, light began to shine behind the blue eyes to cast his head of blonde hair in a glow.

Katniss placed a hand at his cheek, the skin there warm and inviting. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged as though her question was silly. "Why not? You needed me, didn't you?"

She glanced behind her, assuming to find darkness but only seeing light that seemed to travel miles. Katniss furrowed her brow as she turned back to him, a slight grin at his lips. "Where did the darkness go? I felt as though I was searching for a way out forever."

Without answering he placed his other hand at her chin to tip her face up towards his as his lips pressed into hers. Katniss curled her hands into the sides of his face before opening her mouth to his, a warmth rising up through her body. His tongue roamed over hers, applying pressure when needed, and Katniss found her body pushing into his, wanting to become closer, yearning for the heat beneath his clothing. She could feel the desperation mounting , to feel his skin against hers, to feel him inside of her. Her moans intensified as his hands began to roam the expanse of her body, his mouth traveling down the side of her face to land at the pulse point at her neck. She opened her mouth to speak but only a moan resembling a name escaped.

"_Peeta."_

Katniss' eyes shot opened as the sight of the ceiling came into view, her limbs tangled in the quilt of her bed. She tilted her head to look down her body to see her right hand resting at the apex between her thighs, the dampness of her panties seeping into the pads of her fingers. Katniss blushed before tearing her hand away, irritated with her traitorous body. The dream began to flood back into the forefront of her mind; she was puzzled and annoyed that he even seemed to invade her thoughts when she was dreaming. She had a hard enough time forgetting him when she had dressed for bed earlier in the night, her hands lingering at the most sensitive parts of her body when the memory of his soft lips came to mind. She cursed herself more than once at her ridiculous behavior, she mused that the kiss hadn't been that good, but then she reminded herself that she had never kissed someone until Peeta, and that it had been as feverish as she assumed kisses could be.

She was thankful that her mother and Prim had decided to sleep on the first floor after returning late from the birth that they assisted with because Katniss needn't the entire space of the small mattress to sprawl her limbs over. Her mind was foggy with a sensation she had never experienced before and she vaguely recognized it as what the girls who frequented the slag heap described as lust. Katniss was lustful for strong hands and soft lips that she yearned to roam her body and illicit deep sultry moans from her throat. She lightly smacked her forehead willing herself to stop being so ridiculous; she wasn't the many silly girls that followed Gale around and parted their legs to receive attention so why was she now acting as foolish?

With an irritated huff, Katniss sat up swinging her legs off of the side of the bed before standing. A cool breeze hit her bare chest where a few buttons of her nightgown had come undone, and she tried to ignore the fact that her own fingers may have been the cause for her slight undress as she walked over to the sill leaning her body out slightly to feel the air wash over her face. A movement from below alerted her hunter's instincts to engage, she assumed it was only the stray cat that occasionally came around to harass Buttercup which only held entertainment for Katniss when Prim would wail in annoyance. However she wasn't expecting to find his body leaned up against the side of her house, his head lulling above his chest. It took a second for her sight to adjust but she was positive that Peeta Mellark was asleep beneath her window, which confused and excited her. It was troubling how he stirred so many emotions within her, and that alone reminded her to keep her distance.

However she couldn't forget the way he had kissed her and how only a dream of him made her flush with lust, so when her fingers touched her lips and traveled down the expanse of her stomach to stop at the waistline of her underwear she didn't fight the shiver roaming up from her thighs to her hair line.

* * *

_A/N:Sorry for the delay in updates, but I've been busy with other stories. I'm hoping to post one of them very soon, so for those of you that follow me, please keep an eye out. Don't forget to review! I look forward to knowing what you all think of the progress of this work._

**_PLEASE REVIEW!_**


	7. Chapter 7

_Thank you to everyone that has taken the time to review, favorite and follow. _

_As always thank you to my Beta, Court81981, and my number one fangirl __Scoutchick104 who is forever making me delve deeper into the plots and character analyses of my stories.  
_

_Also a very special thank you to pokips and withheartfulloflove who responded to my cry for help on tumblr. I may be willing to grant both of you an Everlark fic wish. Be sure to pm if you're interested._

_I can be reached on tumblr under the username: stacylk._

Chapter Seven

The heels of his feet were throbbing from the cuts that have collected there from walking through the Seam bare footed. After the first laceration, he cursed the impulsive act that led to him treading through the neighborhood in his nightclothes and without shoes. Furthermore, his neck now had a permanent crick in it from leaning up against the side of Katniss' house. Peeta hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until he awoken- he presumed hours later- when the wind picked up, lowering the summer temperature exponentially. It had taken him a few seconds after opening his eyes to realize where he was and then the embarrassment had set in, along with the thick layer of coal dust that now covered most of his lower body. His only saving grace was the cover of night as he walked back to the Hawthornes utterly disheveled. Peeta took the stairs leading up to the porch two at a time as he rushed back inside, positive that the neighbors would soon be rising, most of their days beginning before sunrise, and he wanted to save himself further embarrassment by being seen by anyone. He was sure that he was the topic of many conversations in the district since the buzz of his arrival had even reached his ears and he didn't want to supply any more fodder for the town gossips to use on his behalf. Peeta pushed the wooden door open quickly, and it emitted a loud squeak, which caused him to shut his eyes tight, a grimace forming at his features. He opened the door open just enough for him to slip his broad shoulders through and then closed it behind him when he was safely inside. Peeta exhaled a long breath he had been holding, the tension in his back loosening. He felt relieved as he turned towards the staircase that led up to the loft. However, the calm he felt quickly dissipated as he jumped back in surprise, a yelp escaping his lips.

Hazelle sat in the threadbare chair that faced the door; she still wore her nightclothes and her hair was freed from the updo that he now associated her with. He darted his eyes to the side, his mind racing along with his pulse as he searched for an explanation that didn't make him sound completely pathetic.

Peeta ran his hand through his curls, his sweaty palms casing them to stick upright. "It's not what it looks like. I wasn't trying to run away."

She kept her arms crossed over her chest, her once solemn face now reflecting bemusement. "Clearly. At least I would hope not while you wore only your nightclothes."

He began to walk towards the small sofa beside the chair where she sat. "I just needed to get away and clear my head."

Hazelle nodded. "Did it work?"

Peeta sighed as he sat down onto the lumpy cushion. "Honestly?" He bit his lip as he pondered his own question. "I think my mind is more fuzzy than it was."

Hazelle leaned forward to slap his knee. "Well, welcome to life. I think if you're not at least a little confused you're doing something wrong."

He attempted to laugh, but it came out as more of a strangled sigh. "Yeah. I guess so."

She tipped her head to the side, watching him closely as he dropped his face towards his lap, his hands fiddling with the threads of his sleep shorts. "What has your mind so busy?"

Peeta turned to face her as he debated telling her about his dream, but decided against it. "What has you up so early?"

Hazelle narrowed her eyes, all too aware of his deflection, but she decided to play along for now. "I went up to check up on you boys, and imagine my surprise when I counted only three heads and a particular head of blond curls was missing. I, of course, began to panic when you weren't where I assumed you to be, but I decided to grant you the benefit of the doubt."

"You don't have to worry about me."

She waved him off before placing a hand at his face until she withdrew it to her lap. "It's what mothers do. I worry about all my children, even Gale who's nearly of age at eighteen. He thinks if he's old enough to be forced to work down below in the coal mines then he's too old for his mother to fret over him, but he's wrong."

They sat in uncomfortable silence, or at least it was on Peeta's part, for a few minutes until Hazelle leaned over, attempting to gain his attention. "Are you going to tell me what bothered you so much that you felt compelled to roam through an unfamiliar neighborhood in the middle of the night in nothing but nightclothes?"

Peeta looked up to find her warm gaze, and the nausea he felt in his gut increased. "I had a dream." He closed his eyes as he shook his head trying to clear his muddled mind. "Or maybe it was a memory."

Hazelle reached out, giving his knee a reassuring squeeze. The act seemed to give him the courage to continue that he had been previously lacking. "It was like I was just a witness to it all, and I couldn't affect or change anything…just watch." He let out a heavy breath, decreasing some of the pressure he felt in his chest. "I saw myself as a child, Gale was there and even…even Katniss. It was all a bit hazy but oddly memorable." Peeta could hear the crack in his voice as the tears began to well up at the corner of his eyes. "I also saw him…my father." The tears started to stream down the expanse of his face to pool at the collar of his shirt. "I watched Kale talking to you about my mother, and how he wanted to file papers through the proper channels to establish paternity." By now the anxiety of the experience had completely taken over his body as the sobs wracked his frame. "He…he wanted me. And then…and then I…I saw him with me as a child." Peeta wrapped his arms around his middle, hoping that the pressure would give him the strength to calm himself down. He looked up when he felt Hazelle's hands at his wrists giving him the support he needed. "I was with my father and I didn't even remember."

She let out a long sigh before speaking. "Peeta, sometimes when we go through heartache, or minds forget, I think to protect us. And you've been through more pain than any young man should have to endure, but the fact that you're remembering has to mean that maybe you're finally ready to heal."

He gave her a small smile as he moved his arms from his chest to swipe at his damp cheeks. "I need to know everything or in the very least as much as you're willing to tell me at this time. I'm tired of feeling like everyone else knows more about who I am than I do."

Hazelle shook her head as she gently brushed the tears from his cheeks. "Sweet boy, it's all just a mess of mistakes that were made before you even came along. You don't need to know all of that."

Peeta squeezed his eyes shut to release the last of the tears that laid there. "Please, Hazelle. I need to know something, and I'm sorry that just by asking I'm causing you pain, but you have to understand that I need to know something. I think that it's owed to me to be told at least enough that can ease some of my own pain."

She watched him closely until she conceded, leaning back into the chair. "You have to understand that Kale was always meant to be something more than a coal miner. Even when we were kids growing up in the Seam, I could see it. He always had this quiet strength, unlike most of the boys that grow up around here. So when we began to get closer together in Upper school, I felt blessed. There was even talk that a few Merchant girls had been looking at him for a beau, which was almost unheard of." Her voice was hesitant but it soon leveled out. "But he chose me and for a long time it was just us and we were happy. However, it wasn't long until we aged out and Kale was made to start work in the mines. Not long after I had discovered I was pregnant, then soon it wasn't just us; it was as though our obligations and life itself had interfered with the reality we had created that only existed for us."

She paused to run her hands over her face as a flush began to form there. "The mines were back breaking; there were times he wouldn't say a word to me as we ate and then he would head straight to bed. It was like he was losing a part of himself- the kind sweet boy that I had fell in love with- and only a ghost of the man I knew was remaining. It wasn't until after Gale was born that I found the book he had bound together for sketching out in the trash bin, and then I knew he wasn't the same. And it wasn't like it was all at once but little by little I hardly recognized who he was or who we were together, until finally we were only strangers who inhabited the same home."

Peeta watched her closely; the pain of the past was clear on her sharp Seam features. He felt guilty for asking her to relive the anguish but he had to know more. "How did it start between them?"

"Delilah was beautiful; she was highly sought after by many Merchant sons, and with how well the bakery did it was a given that her dowry would be impressive. Even in a district as poor as Twelve it was evident that she didn't go without, so it wouldn't have been difficult for her to find a suitable suitor." Hazelle wringed her hands in the fabric of her night slip, the material wrinkling with her actions. "But even when we were girls she always wanted what she couldn't have. I suppose it made it more enticing. I don't know how it exactly started, but she had always favored your father. I suppose she made him feel things that I was no longer able to." She paused for a few seconds to gain her voice back. "It wasn't until she was expecting you that I found out about the affair; he never said how long it had been going on and I never asked. Soon after the rumor mill started, and the marriage deal that had been in the works for Delilah to wed the grocer's son was broken. Your grandparents were mortified that their precious daughter had been impregnated by a married coal miner. They had ties to a family in Eight who ran the bakery there, and it was soon worked out that she and the child would go there to live and the son, Luka Mellark, would raise the baby as his own."

Peeta choked back his tears. "It all sounds very proper." He kept his eyes on her as he asked her the one question that had been bothering him through most of her speech. "How could you still care for him after what he did to you?"

Hazelle gave him a soft smile. "Peeta, when we chose to love someone it isn't only for the times when we feel content and comfortable, it's also for the times when we question who we are and our place in others' lives. But those are the times when we truly find out who we love."

"So why do I not remember coming to see you or Kale when I was older?"

She reached out to take his hand. "After Luka died, there was no reaching your mother or finding where she had taken you. I really did like Luka, he was a good man." She let out a sigh. "And by then your grandfather had died and your grandmother had sold the bakery; they were still too ashamed from what had happened with Delilah."

Peeta nodded as he stood up. "I don't blame them. I don't blame my grandmother for wanting to get as far away from here as possible. "

Hazelle followed suit, standing beside him. "Well I do. They let their own feelings get in the way of seeing how blessed they were to have a grandson like you in their lives."

Peeta mused. "It's ironic isn't it?" She furrowed her brow. "Sending my mother away ruined her life, but she did the same to me. I'm the great mistake that everyone tries to brush away."

Hazelle pulled him into her, hugging him tightly. "You can't see yourself that way because eventually that's all you'll feel, and then you'll be so lost you won't recognize how precious you really are."

He nodded as he pulled away from her, his face downcast. "Thank you ,Hazelle, for telling me. I appreciate it." Peeta gave her a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes as he rounded the sofa walking towards the stairs.

"Peeta." He stopped turning toward her. "Why don't you go wash the coal dust off before you go back up to bed?"

He had forgotten about his appearance, his face mortified as he looked down his body. "I am so sorry."

She walked around the chair to stand beside him, her hand going to his cheek. "Don't worry about it. I'm from the Seam, I'm very familiar with coal dust." She gave him a soft smile before walking to the door opposite of the kitchen where she shared a room with her daughter. Hazelle stopped at the doorframe before walking through. "Get some sleep, sweet boy." He nodded as he watched her walk into the room and the close the door behind her, leaving him once again alone with his own thoughts.

* * *

The shift of the mattress is the first thing that his mind registers before he opens his eyes, the image of the ceiling becoming clear as the sleep leaves his vision completely. A soft giggle beside him causes him to turn his head to the side, his sight resting on rosy cheeks and dark, shiny curls. Posy kicks her legs out, another round of laughter emitting from her petite frame as she bounced on the bed. Her glee was infectious and Peeta couldn't help but smile at her as he reached out to poke at her side, tickling her. Posy rolled onto her side pulling her knees into her stomach as she shifted her body to each side, her laughter echoing off the walls. He withdrew his hand to give her a few seconds to recover as he sat up, drawing his own knees to his body.

Posy let out a long breath, her cheeks flushed. "That was funny."

Peeta genuinely chuckled at her remark, his own mouth forming a wide smile. "Yes it was, giggle box." She lightly snorted at his term of endearment as she bounced up in a sitting position."Did you need something?"

She nodded causing her dark curls to bounce around her slight shoulders. "Momma said you needed to get up, but Gale said _you needed to get your lazy ass up." _She leaned in close to him her usual full voice low and conspiratorial. "Don't tell momma I said that word…it's naughty."

Peeta moved his fingers over his lips, his face serious. "It's our secret, little one." She giggled, her face once again bright until something washed over her features and she was once again solemn. Peeta caught on to the shift in her mood. "What is it?"

Posy reached up to his face, placing her small hands at each side of his face. She moved his face slowly to the side until a smile graced her round cheeks and mouth. "You look like my daddy!" And before he could react or even respond she removed her hands, kissed him on the cheek and jumped from the bed. The shift of the mattress made him fall over to his side as he watches her scurry down the stairs, leaving him alone.

Peeta laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling attempting to calm his breathing, the impending situation of having to deal with the rest of the district-especially the adolescent variety which he knew could be specifically cruel- was something he was dreading. He breathed in slowly as he pushes off of the bed, wincing as his bare feet hit the floor. The cuts he had procured earlier that morning were still sore as he padded across the floor to the aged dresser. Peeta pulled off the nightshirt he had changed into after returning; he was thankful for Hazelle's suggestion to bathe, especially now that he wouldn't have time to wash. The top pooled at his feet and his shorts soon followed.

He can hear the commotion from downstairs as he pulled a clean shirt and slacks from his designated drawer. He can't help but lightly chuckle at Hazelle's need to mother, even him -when in reality she should not want him present at all, just another reason why she confused him so.

After he dressed and ran a hand through his ash blond curls, Peeta makes his way over to the staircase; he felt his pulse race, and every instinct he had in his being told him to run the other way, that the window was only a few feet away and he could easily scale the outside of the house and make his escape. He gripped the handrail as he forced his breathing to steady, and when he felt composed enough, Peeta descended down the stairs.

The rest of the house was running around the first floor as Hazelle struggled to wrangle both Vick and Posy. Rory was packing a canvas bag with a stack of books and a metal tin that Peeta assumed held his lunch. He didn't spot Gale until he made it to the last step; the older boy raised his face from where he looked over a book that Posy had handed him to narrow his eyes at Peeta.

"So you finally decided to get up? I mean why would you wake up with the rest of us?" Gale snapped. Peeta began to open his mouth to respond but Hazelle beat him to it as she crossed the room to gently slap Gale over the back of the head. He looked over to his mother, grimacing as he pats Posy on the top of the head and orders the two other boys to follow him, specifically excluding Peeta.

Hazelle walked up to him, a metal tin in her hand. "Here's your lunch." Peeta took it from her as she sat her free hand at his shoulder. "You'll be fine. I'll see you when you get back." He nodded as she winked at him, watching as he made his way outside.

Peeta closed the door behind him; he could hear voices rise as a variety of conversations began beyond the porch. He didn't need to turn around to recognize her voice, and the race of pulse he suffered from earlier was back, but for an entirely different reason than dread. When he turns, her eyes are the first thing he sees and for a split second, his body forgot any involuntary movement all together. However he soon recovered and walked down from the porch to join the others. He watched as she nervously shifted her eyes from his while Gale kept close by, alternating his narrowed glare between the two. The younger kids are blissfully ignorant of the tension as they make their way out of the Seam and towards the Merchant quarters that lead to the schoolhouses. Peeta kept his place as his eyes landed on her lips and flashes of her mouth and body pressed up against his run through his mind. When the dizzy spell passed he shifted his eyes up towards hers. Peeta is pleasantly surprised when her eyes are already looking into his and by the flush that was now at her cheeks he has to assume that she too was thinking of their kiss.

Her hold on him is momentarily halted by Gale mumbling an insult his way, causing Katniss to nod Gale's way and trail behind Prim and Rory who shamefully flirt while Vick darts between them. Peeta stole a glance her way, as she fiddled with her traditional braid and he couldn't help the urges that rose up through him to reach out and run his fingers through the strands. His eyes ran down her body, the hem of her light cotton button up flap in the warm wind; the color of the fabric is a rich brown that blended into the tan slacks she now wore. Her outfit is a stark contrast to the dress that Prim wore, even with how modest it was it was still incredibly more feminine than what Katniss dones. Peeta couldn't help the sense of admiration that welled up inside of him that she could still take his breath away in clothing that is traditionally male. A smirk graced his lips as they made their way to the school; Katniss seemed oblivious to his glances but Peeta's eyes are met with Gale's narrowed glare.

"Don't expect us to wait on you every time." Peeta gave him a tight- lipped smile, resolved to not respond, but Katniss seemed to not be under the same opinion.

"Lay off, Gale. How many times have I had to wake your ass up?" Katniss glanced over to Peeta before turning back to Gale, whose face was already flushed. "Maybe it just runs in the family?"

Gale shakes his head. "Thanks, Catnip."

Katniss waves at him as he stomps forward putting space between them. "You're welcome, Gale."

Peeta tried to keep the wide smile from forming at his lips but failed. She looked over at him rolling her eyes. "Oh, don't look so happy, he was being an ass, he deserved it. And don't think I wouldn't call you on your crap if you did the same."

"I wouldn't assume anything less from you, Katniss."

She ducked her head, a deep blush at her olive skin as they walked in relative silence. Peeta kept his hands fisted at his side to stop his urge to reach out and take hers in his. Having her so close was more difficult than he would have assumed or liked. She had a way of calming him, and in the same heartbeat, causing his entire body to shake in nervous excitement. The memory of her hips underneath his hands and the quiet moans that escaped her lips when he administered the littlest bit of pressure ran through his mind. He wanted to bring up their kiss but every time he mustered up the courage, she would glance over at him and suddenly every ounce of self doubt he had came crashing around him and he was once again stressing over what to do in her presence. He debated whether to bring up witnessing her nightmare earlier in the morning but then he would be inadvertently confessing that he had been outside her home, and he didn't want to be seen by her strange boy who waited underneath her window. His predicament would have been almost humorous if it had been happening to someone else, but alas Peeta had to come to terms that he was falling for the one girl he could never have.

Peeta looked around him as the schoolhouses came into view; he had been so lost in his own issues that he hadn't realized that they had already arrived. He didn't, however , miss the fact that most of the eyes of those who stood in the courtyard were now on him. The way they snickered and cupped their hands to their neighbors' ears only solidified his assumptions that he was the topic of their conversations. Peeta stopped midway as Katniss walked ahead to bid her sister a good day as Prim tagged along with the younger kids to the First school building. Peeta attempted to ignore the blatant stares in his direction as he picked at his clothes, trying to seem indifferent and collected. But all he felt was the blush that threatened to engulf his body in embarrassment. He nearly jumped when he looked up to see her watching him closely.

Her eyes were oddly soft and he hoped it was not from pity. "You shouldn't let them bother you or shame you into wearing the fabric of your clothing thin."

Peeta dropped his hands laughing nervously. "Yeah, I guess so." He looked around, positive to find the same irritated gaze he now associated with Gale but was pleasantly surprised to find him nowhere. "Where did Gale go?"

Katniss tilted her head, a bemused smile at her lips. "Do you really care?"

Peeta returned her smile as he scrunched his nose feigning deep thought. "Well?"

Katniss shook her head as she pointed behind her. "You should probably go to the front office for everything. I can show you where to go if you want."

Peeta debated taking her up on her offer, but instead he shook his head. "No, it's fine." They stood there in silence, their eyes looking everywhere but at each other. Peeta watched as the crowds of students began to thin as it neared closer to the morning bell. He looked over to Katniss who was now fiddling with the end of her braid, and the urge from earlier was threatening to become a reality. He instead decided to do something as equally irrational. "Should we talk about what happened?" Katniss' fingers stilled as she looked up at him, her brow furrowed. "We kissed."

Katniss sighed. "Peeta, I thought we already talked about it."

"Actually I tried to talk about it and you deflected it."

Katniss shifted her weight, her body moving with nervous energy as she glanced behind her to the entrance. "I really should go." She gave him one more glance before leaving him standing alone in the courtyard.

Peeta watched her go; it wasn't an unfamiliar situation he reasoned with himself, to watch those he knew leave him behind. But for some reason the pain he felt when she turned from him was more than rejection or the abandonment he felt towards his mother. It was something he could only compare to heart break.

* * *

_A/N:Thank you as always for taking the time out to read. **Please Review!**_


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